I've Got Your Number, Son
by SpyKid18
Summary: Set in S4. When Rory impulsively asks out a boy at the coffee kart she gets more than she bargained for. ROGAN
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: New story! This is mercilessly lifted from the Season 4 storyline where Rory thinks that the rando from the laundry room that she asked out is making fun of her to people. But...I threw in Logan. Because that's what I do. Enjoy!**

Chapter One

Rory stood behind the tree, watching silently as the first boy she ever loved walked out of the church, new wife clutching to his arm with a wide grin. Rory thought to herself that she'd never seen a happier girl. She'd never seen a happier Dean, either. He laughed, slipping his arm around his newly minted wife's waist and pressed a tender kiss to the side of her head.

Rory looked away, wiping her nose while she scolded herself for being so damn emotional. It's not that she wanted Dean, anyway. He was a part of her past. They'd moved on, both of them. She moved on to Jess, a disappointing relationship culminating in him hightailing it out of Stars Hollow without so much as a phone call. Dean moved on to Lindsay, and now he was married.

Rory walked to Luke's and found her mother sitting at their usual table, a steaming cup of coffee set in front of her.

"You're late," Lorelai said, studying her daughter's face while she sat down opposite her.

"Yeah, I, um, lost track of time. Studying and stuff."

"You stopped at the wedding, didn't you?"

Rory sighed, resting her forearms on the table. "Yeah, I did."

"Are you okay?"

Rory nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears. " Yeah, I am. It's just…he's married."

"Yeah, he is."

"He has his life together, and I just…" she trailed off. "I don't know."

"Hun, you have your life together, too," Lorelai said, reaching over and laying her hand over Rory's. "You're at Yale, and you're doing great. You don't need to be married. Actually, I'm _happy _you're not married."

Rory shook her head. "No, it's not that. I just feel…" she paused, trying to figure out how to phrase what she was feeling. "I don't know, since Jess…I feel like I've been stuck."

Lorelai paused for a moment, carefully selecting her words. Jess was always a touchy subject between her and Rory, and she didn't want to say something that would upset her daughter. "Are you waiting for him or something? Hoping he'll come back?"

"No," Rory said immediately, and Lorelai relaxed. "I just…I miss having someone. Do you know what I mean?"

Lorelai nodded, thinking of her own dry spell in the man department. "Yeah, I do. Well, maybe you should put yourself out there."

"Out where?"

"The dating world. Ask someone out."

"I can't ask someone out," Rory said immediately.

"Why not?"

"Because, I just can't," Rory said. " I'm not like that."

"Like what? A strong, confident woman?"

"That's not what I meant," Rory returned drily. "I just…do guys like that?"

Luke came up to the table and asked Rory what she wanted for lunch. She ordered a burger and coffee, just like Lorelai, and her mom asked Luke, "Hey, what would you say if a girl asked you out?"

"Why are you asking me this?" he returned.

"I'm trying to convince Rory here that she put herself out into the world and ask someone out."

"I think you should do whatever makes you comfortable," Luke told Rory.

"Sometimes it's good to push yourself outside your comfort zone," Lorelai pointed out. "Risks are good. You took a risk opening this diner, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And look how good that turned out!"

"I think we're getting off topic," Rory piped in.

"The point is that sometimes taking a risk – like asking someone out – can end up really great," Lorelai said slowly. "Just give it a chance."

Rory let out a long exhale. "Alright, I guess I could try. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"

"That's the spirit," Lorelai said with a grin. "And with your looks and smart wit, a guy would be an idiot to say no."

"Your mom's right," Luke said. "You're a real catch, Rory."

Luke walked back to the kitchen and Lorelai said, "He's been really nice lately, right? Like, too nice?"

"I think he's trying to make up for…" Rory trailed off. "You know."

Lorelai's eyes widened. Of course he was being especially nice. His nephew broke Rory's heart and then rode off into the California sunset.

"Right. Of course."

"Anyway, I'll try to put myself more out there," Rory said, straightening in her seat. "Dating. I can date. It can't be that hard."

* * *

One month passed, and Rory found that dating was, in fact, very hard. She neglected to realize that her decision to date was contingent on finding someone worth dating. Yale, filled with its intellectuals and cable-knit-legacies, didn't do much for Rory. She found herself asked out by one guy from her Russian Literature class, and they went to an Italian restaurant off campus. The date was so terrible that she couldn't eat pasta for days afterwards.

"We all get clunkers," Lorelai told her that night on the phone. "Don't let it discourage you, babe."

It wasn't the date that discouraged Rory. Even she knew that the experimental bent of dating necessitated a few less than stellar nights out. What really bothered her was the sudden crop of couples that seemed to populate the campus. The weather turned cold and the cuddling couples surfaced, pressed close as they made their way across the blistering cold campus.

Rory watched one of said couples as she waited in line at her favorite coffee kart. The girl actually had one of her hands in the guy's pocket. Rory didn't know what bothered her more, the fact that this was actually happening or that she found it sort of cute.

"Can I take your order?" the coffee kart guy said, drawing her attention away from the couple.

"Oh, sorry," Rory said, stepping up to the kart. "I'll have a medium caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso."

"Alright," the guy said, typing her order into the register. "That'll be four dollars and fifty five cents."

Rory pulled out her wallet from her pack pocket and she frowned when she saw that there were only three singles hastily wedged in the wallet. She forgot that she'd done some damage at the bookstore a few days prior, and she'd never restocked her wallet.

"Um, what is it without the shot?" she asked tentatively.

"Four dollars and twelve cents."

It still was too much and she tried, "How about a small?"

"Three dollars and eighty four."

This was the last time she was ever going out without checking her wallet.

"Um…"

"You can just ring hers up with mine," someone said behind her. She glanced back at a blonde man who was about a head taller than her. He was dressed in a black peacoat, a white oxford peaking out of the collar.

"Oh, you don't have to," Rory said immediately. She could just switch to a regular coffee, like she should have done in the first place.

"For your sake, I think I do," he said with a grin. "I heard a few not too nice sentiments behind me after you changed your order for a second time. This is really for your own personal safety."

Rory grinned sheepishly. "This is so embarrassing."

"Just take the damn drink," someone griped behind them.

"I'll take the drink," Rory said quickly, stepping to the side. He moved up to the kart and ordered her original medium macchiato and a large coffee. After he paid he waited momentarily for his regular coffee and then moved over to where she stood.

"I'm Logan, by the way," he said.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Rory. Thank you for doing this. I'm so embarrassed. I swear I usually always have cash on me. You know, for emergencies and such. But the Yale bookstore had such a great sale on merchandise Monday, and I went a bit overboard."

Logan smirked. "Understandably. Who can resist a good bookstore sale?"

"Right?"

"Anyway, I'm more than happy to help out."

"I'll pay you back," Rory said immediately. "If you give me your dorm room number I can drop it off. Or, hey, are you usually here around this time? Because I am, and –"

"You don't have to pay me back," he said, laughing a bit at her eagerness. "It's only three dollars."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm completely sure."

"Alright," she said, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. "But, thanks again."

"You are very thankful for three dollars," he noted.

"I'm more thankful for the caffeine, to be honest," Rory admitted. Exams were in a month and she'd already begun her studying. Last night she'd been up late trying to wrap her head around consumer protection laws.

"You're a caffeine junkie, huh?"

"I wouldn't go that far," she began, although in truth he was probably right. Still, she just met him. It was better to not come off too deranged. "But I do enjoy a good cup of coffee."

"Okay," he said, grinning. "Best cup of coffee you've ever had."

Without hesitation she said, "Luke's Diner."

Logan laughed. "Wow, that was fast."

"It's this diner in my hometown," she explained. "Best coffee in all of Connecticut."

"What's the secret?"

"You know, my mom and I have been trying to figure that out for years. Luke won't tell us."

"Hold on, Luke's Diner is actually run by a Luke?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah, he owns it."

"I did not see that coming. In retrospect, I probably should have."

The coffee kart guy finished her drink and Logan handed it to her.

"Are you sure I can't buy you a cup here later to make up for this?" Rory asked. "I promise that my wallet will have money in it then."

Logan grinned. "It's only three dollars, remember? Anyway, I have to run to class. It was nice meeting you, Rory."

"You, too."

She watched him walk away, the coffee cup warm between her hands, and on impulse she followed him and said, "Logan, wait!"

He turned around, smiling slightly. "Did they get your order wrong now or something?"

"No, I wanted to ask you if maybe you'd want to get coffee some time. Like, _coffee_…coffee. Not to repay you. Because we already covered that."

He laughed a bit and replied, "Yeah, we did."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and her heart was beating so rapidly in her chest that she could feel it in her ears. When he finally spoke – after what felt like an eternity – she wished he hadn't.

"I don't think so. Thanks, though."

He turned and walked away. Rory swallowed hard and returned with a strangled, "You're welcome."

* * *

Two weeks later Rory had all but forgotten about her ill-fated foray into asking out random boys on campus. She ran into Logan a few times on campus, but she darted away quickly. The longest interaction was at a lecture given by one of the tenured professors, where she sat in the seat farthest from him. She hadn't thought of him much after that until Janet inadvertently brought him up at lunch. Rory and Paris were eating lunch in the cafeteria with Janet and one of her cross country teammates, Laura.

"Oh, do you see that guy in the brown turtleneck?" Janet said hurriedly, pointing her fork over Rory's shoulder. Rory turned, cheeks flaming when she recognized Logan. Paris, who was sitting beside Rory, did the same and said, "Yeah, Huntzberger?"

"Wait, that's the Huntzberger guy?" Rory said in disbelief. She'd heard all about the Huntzberger heir from her grandfather before she even started Yale. And now it turned out that she unwittingly met him. And asked him out.

"Yeah, he's a year above us," Paris said. "I'm not surprised you haven't met him. Apparently he doesn't go anywhere except The Pub."

"Which is where I saw him last night," Janet interjected, casting Paris a look for hijacking the story.

"Oh, far be it for me to interrupt what will surely be another scintillating story of who boffed who."

"Were you not hugged enough as a child or something?" Janet retorted.

Not missing a beat, Paris returned, "Bite me."

"Janet, your story?" Laura prompted.

"Right, anyway, we were all at The Pub and he was telling this hilarious story about this girl who asked him out a few weeks ago. Apparently they just met and she asked him out completely randomly. He turned her down gently – you know, trying to be nice and all that. Anyway, afterwards she suddenly started showing up everywhere. She's, like, stalking him or something."

"Or, they just go to school on the same campus," Paris chimed in.

"It sounds creepy to me, " Janet said. "And, oh, you should have heard his impression of her! It was the funniest thing."

"I think I'm done," Rory said, standing up and picking up her tray. She'd lost her appetite.

"Are you heading back to the dorm?" Paris asked, standing up herself and straightening her skirt.

"No, I have an article to finish. I'll be at the news office."

"Oh, I'll stop there too, actually," Paris said, picking up her tray. "I have a really great idea for an op-ed that I want to run past Doyle."

"Sure. We'll see you guys later."

* * *

Rory sat at her desk in the Yale Daily News office, the sound of Paris and Doyle arguing over her op-ed idea serving as a sort of soundtrack as she worked on her piece. Doyle arguments were the norm in the office – even more so since Paris joined the paper. There was never an idea brought by either of them that wasn't met with vocal opposition by the other.

She finished a paragraph and leaned back in her seat, letting herself have a short respite before diving in for the rest of the piece. She picked up her cup of coffee and took a long sip. When she put it down she was surprised to see Logan walk into the office. Paris and Doyle, wrapped up in their argument, didn't notice him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said, mouth pulling at a grin. Rory thought of what she'd heard earlier and her anger flared. He looked pretty happy to see someone that the night before he'd categorized as a stalker.

"Why wouldn't I be here," she returned icily. "I'm on the paper. Look in last week's issue. My byline is in there. Above the fold too, buddy. I should be here."

"Okay," he said slowly, smile faltering. "Why do I feel like I should be waving a white flag?"

Rory crossed her arms over her chest, straightening in her seat. "What are you doing here?"

At that moment Doyle must have sensed newspaper royalty in his midst, because the argument halted, and he turned around with wide eyes.

"Logan! What-what are you doing here?"

"Hey there, Doyle. Miss me?"

"Well, of course," Doyle sputtered, walking over to him. He threw an arm around Logan's shoulders, a somewhat awkward gesture due to Doyle's small stature. "What can I do for you?"

"My dad's been on me about not having my byline in any of the papers this year. Think you can scrounge something up for me?"

"Well, Logan, all the articles for this week's issue have been given out already."

"That's fine," Logan said easily. "We'll do one for next week. How about a fun topic, minimal research?"

"You've got it, buddy," Doyle said, laughing in a way that almost looked painful. "Whatever you want."

"Great. Well, I'll see you all later." He glanced at Rory and flashed her a smile before leaving. She sank down in her seat, equal parts frustrated and angry. How could he act like that around her when he'd been saying all those things the night before?

"Whatever," she mumbled under her breath. "Back to the story."

Cloistered off to the side of the office, Doyle and Parie resumed their argument.

* * *

The next morning Rory went down to the dining hall for breakfast. She was still dressed in her pajamas, her first class not starting until 11:00. Her plate piled high with eggs and bacon – she decided it was a savory breakfast morning – she padded over to her usual table.

"Hey Ace," a familiar voice said. She glanced back, irritating spiking when she saw Logan. He smiled wide and said, "You aren't going to yell at me now, are you? I haven't had my morning coffee yet."

"Alright, that's it," she snapped, slamming her tray down on the table. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" he repeated.

"Yeah, I asked you out. Whatever. I'm sure it's not the first time. And, you know, that takes a lot of courage. It's not easy to ask someone out and put yourself out there."

"I know," he said.

"And I haven't been stalking you. We just happened to run into each other on campus a few times, and I've read every article by that professor who gave the lecture on drone strikes. I didn't go for you!"

"Of course you didn't," he said slowly.

Rory stared down at him, confused beyond measure now. "Then why have you been telling people I've been stalking you?"

"What?"

"You were telling some story about a girl who asked you out and then-"

"That wasn't about you," he interrupted. "Believe me, that wasn't about you."

"It wasn't?"

He shook his head. "No, there was with girl in one of my classes who asked me out. I said no and she started showing up at my dorm with cakes and stuff. She hid in my closet wearing nothing but whipped cream."

Rory winced. "Definitely not me."

He smirked. "No, definitely not you."

"Well, this has been sufficiently mortifying," Rory said, beginning to step back towards her table. "Do you think you could not tell people about this? Because that would be great."

Before he answered she turned around and walked straight past her tray toward the exit. She'd be eating a granola bar in her bedroom for breakfast this morning.

**A/N: Show your Gilmore Girls and Rogan love with some reviews! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all of your wonderful feedback! I love writing these characters and am ecstatic that there is still a thriving ****fan base! I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Chapter Two

Rory rushed through campus, anxiously checking her watch to see just how late she was going to be to her weekly Oxfam meeting. She'd only joined the organization a month ago – at Paris' behest following a long lecture about how they needed to get involved on campus – and she hadn't completely gotten accustomed to her new schedule. Typically Tuesday afternoons were spent in the library preparing reading for the rest of the week. That was exactly where she was when she realized the Oxfam meeting had started five minutes ago.

She reached the building and quickened her pace, taking the steps two at a time as she trekked up to the third floor. She was nearly panting by the time she reached the room.

"This is ridiculous," Paris said, ignoring Rory's arrival entirely. Rory did not know the context of the conversation, but found it entirely plausible that whatever it was Paris found it ridiculous. "We're supposed to be raising money for oppressed women in India, not hosting a kegger."

"Hello Rory," Carrie, the president of the organization, said, shooting her a somewhat weathered smile.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Rory said quickly. "Lost track of time in the library."

"No problem. I'll just get you up to speed real quick on what we're talking about and Paris is not surprisingly opposing."

"God forbid we have an event on campus that doesn't devolve to drinking contests and who-can-take-the-hottest-co-ed-home-first."

Carrie flashed a tight smile and said, "Anyway, we're planning to have a fundraiser at The Pub for oppressed women in India. We'll charge a cover to get into the bar, and three quarters of that will go toward the charity. The other quarter will go to The Pub, and in return they will give us drink specials."

"Yeah, like the people coming need specials to get themselves drunk beyond comprehension."

"I think it's a good idea," Rory said, ignoring Paris' scoff. She was sure later she'd get lectured on roommate-solidarity, and how it was something in which she was severely lacking.

"Great. We were just discussing what we need people-wise for the event, and –"

"Hey, I wasn't finished," Paris interjected. "Aren't we at all concerned with how we are watering down true fundraising? These people aren't going to care about the cause. All they'll care about is how cheap the drinks are."

"Who cares?" Carrie said, the professional veneer cracking. "We'll raise money and gain more awareness for the issues we care about. Which, might I add, is the point of fundraising. If we did it your way, we'd be sitting somberly in a room making no money."

"I wouldn't-"

"We're doing The Pub event," Carrie said firmly. Paris stewed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Alright, now, let's talk about what we need for that night."

* * *

"It's ridiculous," Paris fumed afterwards. "People are just going to get drunk and not care a bit about what the event is actually about."

"Paris, you need to let this one go."

Paris frowned. "You know I've never been good at letting things go."

"Yes," Rory said slowly, patting her shoulders. "I do."

She spotted Logan walking toward them and panicked, grabbing Paris' arm as she stammered, "Let's take the long way back to the dorm?"

"What? Why?"

"I, uh, just want some exercise," Rory said quickly. "And it's such a nice day? Isn't it a nice day?"

"It's freezing," Paris said, removing her arm from Rory's grasp. "I lost feeling in my toes about two minutes ago. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Rory said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

"You never take the long way anywhere. And you hate exercise. What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing, I promise."

"First you don't take my side at the meeting," Paris lamented. "And now you're keeping things from me. You're supposed to be my roommate, Rory. My friend. Are we even really roommates anymore? Because right now we just seem like two random people who happen to sleep in the same room."

Rory was going to point out that Paris had essentially just given the definition of a roommate, but she understood what she was getting at.

"Fine," Rory said. "I will say this once, but then you have to promise not to bring it up again."

"Okay."

"Logan Huntzberger was walking toward us, and I wanted to avoid him because a few weeks ago I asked him out and he turned me down."

"Are you serious?" Paris asked, eyes wide. "Wait, was that story Janet told us- "Not about me," Rory said. "I sort of confronted him about it in the dining hall one morning."

"Confronted him?"

"There were a lot of gestures. Raised voices. Well, my raised voice. He was pretty calm about it all. Anyway, I was really embarrassed – still sort of am, actually – so I try to avoid him."

"Wow, that is embarrassing," Paris noted. "I get now why you didn't want to tell me."

"Yeah, so…"

"I can't believe you asked him out."

"I know," Rory said. "It was sort of on a whim. Ever since Dean got married I've been in a, I don't know, a funk?"

"That's understandable. He was your first love."

"Yeah, I guess," Rory said. "I don't know. I thought branching out would be good."

"And?"

"You know, it's not for me," Rory answered reasonably.

Paris considered something for a moment and then said, "So, you asked him out _before_ you knew he was a Huntzberger?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"Just saying – that would have been the catch of a lifetime."

* * *

Four days later Rory stood in front of her closet, trying to pick out an outfit for her fundraiser that night while she had her daily phone chat with Lorelai.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Lorelai asked. "Got a hot date or something?"

"No, my Saturday night plans are much more tame. I have a fundraiser for Oxfam at The Pub."

"That was the place with the really good cappuccinos, right?"

"Yeah. Definitely getting one of those tonight."

"So, what are you wearing?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Rory said. "What exactly is an appropriate fundraiser outfit?"

"I'd go with your purple dress. It's a step up from the typical going out fare, but not too fancy that you'll look like you're cruising for men."

"How do you remember my purple dress?" Rory asked, pulling the sleeveless dress off the hanger. She picked up her cream cardigan off of her desk chair and threw it on her bed to wear with the dress.

"Because I was super bummed when you took it with you because that meant I couldn't borrow it."

"You know, you had the entire first two years I had it to borrow it."

"I know, coulda-shoulda-woulda. Anyway, try to have some fun tonight. Don't just talk about poor people all night."

"That is sort of the point of a fundraiser."

"Yeah, but that's not _all _you need to talk about. You could say something like, gee, isn't it awful that they only have this much food a day, and hey, that reminds me of last night's _American's Next Top Model_. Did you watch it?"

Rory snorted. "Very smooth, Mom."

"I'm a master at the smooth conversation changer. You see me do it at least three times at every Friday night dinner."

"Hair up or down?" Rory asked, moving over to her mirror. It was chin-length now, and she couldn't decide which style to go with.

"Definitely down. Give the boys there a chance."

"I'm not there for boys."

"Doesn't mean you can't look nice for them. You never know who you'll meet. Who knows, Prince Harry could be there."

"Prince Harry? Why would Prince Harry be at The Pub?"

"He likes to party," Lorelai answered reasonably. "Crazier things have happened."

"Alright, fine, I'll wear my hair down in case Prince Harry is there," Rory said sarcastically.

"Good choice, babe. You won't regret it. Alright, I have to run to Doose's. Do you know we're out of poptarts?"

"What is this world coming to?"

"Right? Be safe tonight, and call me tomorrow with all the details. And if Prince Harry is there, I want pictures."

"Will do. Love you, Mom."

"You too, babe."

* * *

The Pub was packed that night with a surprising turnout to the Oxfam fundraiser. They'd expected to get good numbers, but this was beyond what any of them had projected. Carrie had done a quick counting of the money, and they'd already raised over three hundred dollars.

Rory glanced around the bar, sipping on her cappuccino. There were groups of people chatting, enjoying their Saturday night. One group unfortunately found themselves caught by Paris, who was giving an emphatic speech about the horrors that women faced in India. Rory learned on their way to The Pub that Paris decided to reconcile her discontent with the event by doggedly reinforcing the cause behind the fundraiser. Paris spent the first hour of the fundraiser going group to group with her lectures. People now actively avoided her.

"I think you might be the only person here drinking coffee," Logan said, appearing at her side. She stepped back in surprise, knocking into someone as they passed.

"Watch out!" the girl snapped, holding her drink away from her dress.

"Sorry," Rory said.

"Well, don't you just incite sunshine and happiness everywhere you go," Logan teased.

"I'm usually not this easily startled," Rory said.

"I'm sure you're not. So, how have you been? I haven't seen you since…" he trailed off as he thought of the last time they talked. She knew that he was absolutely clear of their last interaction, and the goading smile said it all as he said, "Oh, right, since that time you yelled at me in the middle of the dining hall."

"You know, that was embarrassing for me," Rory said defensively.

"I know. And what better way to remove that stigma than to laugh at it?"

"Um, I don't know, how about not talking about it?" she returned. She went to walk away and he said, "Come on, I'm just playing with you, Ace."

She turned around and asked, "What's with the Ace? You do remember my actual name, right?"

"Yes, _Rory_, I remember your name," he said.

"So, the Ace…"

"A nickname."

"Shouldn't you know someone a bit better before giving them a nickname?"

He grinned. "Probably, but I promise your nickname is actually based on you."

"It is?"

He nodded. "It 's short for Ace reporter. After you yelled at me the first time in the newspaper office, I went ahead and read some of your articles. They were the online format, so I can't vouch for them being above the fold as you said, but they were pretty good. So, Ace reporter. It suits you."

"Thank you," Rory said uncertainly.

"I can't believe how many people are so ignorant as to the actual reason they're all here," Paris said sourly, joining them.

"Well, then at least you're spreading the word," Rory said.

"Do you know someone thought this was some themed party? He told me the costumes he ultimately rejected. I don't think I've ever been so offended in my life."

"Well, whether they know what it is or not, their money still goes toward the charity," Logan said. "That's what matters, right?"

"Typical," Paris said, shooting him a look. "Let me guess, you have no idea what you're here for besides cheap beer and hitting on my roommate."

"Paris!" Rory exclaimed, cheeks coloring.

"It's an Oxfam fundraiser for oppressed women in India," Logan said easily, ending the statement with a jaunty smile. "And let that teach you not to judge a book by its cover."

"Lucky answer," Paris grumbled, turning away and storming off in the direction of another unassuming group who was about to have their fun stomped on.

"For the record, I'm not hitting on you," Logan said, glancing down at Rory.

"I didn't think you were," Rory stammered.

"That would be a whole bundle of mixed signals."

"Yes, it would."

"So, can I buy you another cappuccino? It looks like yours is running low."

"Um, sure?" she said, thinking that for someone so intent on not giving mixed signals, he was doing a pretty awful job.

"It's a friendly gesture," he filled in, seemingly reading into her uncertainty. He started toward the bar and she followed him. "I feel bad about before."

"You don't have to."

"No, I do," he said, sidling up to the bar and glancing over at her. "You seem really nice, it's just that I don't date. I'm not good at it, never have been. And then you thought I was making fun of you. I feel like an unintentional jerk."

"Well, like you said, it was unintentional."

He ordered her another cappuccino and one for himself, too. When she asked what made him order one he said, "I couldn't let you be the only person drinking coffee here. But, I have to warn you, if my friends see us they will mock us endlessly."

Rory thought of her mother and said, "I can handle a good mocking. Don't worry."

They chatted a little more until a tall brunette came over, glancing over his shoulder hurriedly as he said, "Good, I dodged her."

"Dodged who?" Logan asked.

"See that blonde with the orange sweater?" he said, gesturing toward Paris. Logan and Rory exchanged look.

"Yeah, what about her?" Logan asked.

"She keeps going on about starving women and children in India. Like, who the hell wants to hear about that on a Saturday night?"

"Right, who _here _would want to hear about that?" Logan said slowly, sending Rory a grin.

"Who is she, anyway?" he asked after a moment.

In unison Rory and Logan murmured, "No idea."

* * *

By the end of the night Oxfam raised over 500 dollars for their charity. Even Paris had to admit it was a pretty good haul.

"So, do you finally admit this was a good idea?" Rory asked while her and Paris made their way back to the dorm.

"No," Paris said, stubbornly holding her ground. "Anyway, I saw you and Huntzbrger getting all chummy. You didn't ask him out again, did you?"

"No!" Rory said loudly. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. You were with him for most of the night."

"No, I wasn't," Rory argued, although she knew Paris was right. Logan ended up introducing her to all of his friends, and they ended up being an entertaining group. She didn't even realize she'd been with them so long until Paris came over and asked if she was ready to leave.

"Well, you looked about two steps from asking him out again. You were all moon-eyed."

"I was not moon-eyed," Rory retorted. "And, besides, he told me he's not the dating type."

"Why would he tell you that?"

"He felt bad about the whole situation."

"Meaning…"

"You know, him turning me down and then me thinking that he was spreading these stories about me."

"That's a shame," Paris said after a moment.

"What is?"

"You not dating him," Paris said. "I was going to cash in on so many best-friend-benefits."

**A/N: Reviews are love.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for all of your wonderful feedback! I love writing these characters and am ecstatic that there is still a thriving ****fan base! I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Chapter Three

Rory would never forget the moment when she found out that Paris and her much older professor Asher Fleming were involved romantically. She'd come back early from a weekend home and saw the two of them in a decidedly not professor-student-embrace. She'd hoped that Paris would keep her clearly clandestine tryst just that, but she didn't prove to be that lucky as Paris admitted the whole affair the next day and then proceeded to give her overly graphic updates on a nearly daily basis. She prayed, wished and dreamed that the relationship would end. In all those prayers, wishes, and dreams she never thought it would ended because Asher Fleming died.

"Do you need anything?" Rory asked, standing beside Paris as she smoked one of Asher's old pipes. She considered telling her roommate that smoking a pipe indoors was probably a violation of the dorm's rules, but then thought against it.

"No," Paris said morosely, taking another puff from the pipe. "I can't eat. I can't drink. All I can think about is Asher and how…" she trailed off, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Paris," Rory murmured, moving forward and putting her arm around her.

"I'm fine," Paris said suddenly, pulling away from Rory's arms. She straightened in the seat, tear tracks marking her cheeks. "I don't want to be that person who breaks down. He would have hated that. He always loved how strong I was."

"You are strong," Rory said. "One of the strongest people I know."

Paris nodded sadly, wiping at her eyes. "Do you have the flyers printed?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah, they're in our room. Are you really sure you want to have a memorial service tonight?"

"I want him to be remembered," Paris said firmly. "This is what he deserves. The life he lived…" she trailed off, smiling softly. "It should be celebrated, Rory. He should be celebrated."

"Okay. I'll put some in our dorm and then on some of the other bulletin boards around campus."

Paris nodded. "Good. He was a wonderful man, you know. Brilliant. Kind. Loving." She took a long drag of the pipe. "I'll never find another man like him."

* * *

Rory went around campus putting up the flyers for Asher Fleming's wake. She talked to Lorelai while she did it, figuring she could get two things finished at once – put up the flyers and have her daily phone call with her mom.

"I still can't believe she was sleeping with someone my father's age. I mean that's a, what, forty year age difference?"

"I feel uncomfortable talking about this," Rory said, pinning a flyer up on the bulletin board in the East Quad. "I mean, he passed away."

"Dead or not, there is still a major ick-factor."

"Mom!"

"What? The man slept with someone forty years his junior. He could be her grandfather."

"Ew, don't even go there," Rory said, wrinkling her nose.

"So, how's Paris doing?"

"She's okay," Rory said. "She's pretty sad about it all. She keeps smoking his pipe, which is kind of weird."

"So many potential comebacks for that."

Rory rolled her eyes. "All in all, though, she's handling it pretty well.

"The fact that she wants people at your dorm tonight for the memorial is a good sign. She's not afraid to be around people."

Rory took a deep breath. "Yeah, we'll see how it goes."

"What do you mean?" Lorelai said, sensing her daughter's hesitance.

"I just don't know how many people we're going to get."

"Well, you're doing the best with the flyers you're putting up and all. You get what you get, I guess."

"Yeah," Rory said, heading back to the dorm. She had a few flyers left and thought she'd cover the dorm more heavily. People from there were probably more likely to go since it would be so close for them.

"Well, I need to get back to work. Don't have too much fun at that memorial tonight."

"I won't. Bye."

Rory hung up, walking up the steps of her dorm. She put a few more flyers up on the first floor and then took the elevator up to her floor. She walked over to the bulletin board pinned another flyer up.

She heard voices coming from the stairwell and glanced over, surprised to see Logan and his tall Australian friend Finn emerge from the doorway. They moved over to her door and went to knock.

"Um, Logan?" she said, drawing their attention.

"Hey Ace," he said, mouth pulled into a wide grin. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she said. She pointed at the door they were standing in front of and said, "Actually, to be more exact, I live there."

"You live here," Logan asked, pointing at the door. She thought it was just a statement, but as he waited for an answer she realized it was a question.

"Yes. I live there. Room 408."

"This is the room," Finn said. "I'm tellin' you mate, she's in here!"

"Who's in there?" Rory asked in confusion.

"Any chance you live with a redhead?" Logan asked.

"Um, unless someone got a dye-job recently, no," she returned. She glanced at Finn, who seemed to be working something out in his head. He looked up at the ceiling and then back at the door, mouth screwed to the side.

"Hold on," he said, holding out both his hands. "Dunphy Hall."

"Dunphy Hall?" Logan asked. "What about Dunphy Hall?"

"That's where she is. Dunphy Hall!"

"Are you sure?"

Finn nodded emphatically. "Oh yes! Dunphy is definitely-wait, hold on…"

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. He walked over to Rory, glancing down at the stack of papers in her hands.

"I heard he passed away," Logan noted. "You're having a memorial service for him?"

"Yeah, in my dorm."

Logan nodded, rubbing at his jaw. "So, were you and him…"

"No!" Rory said loudly. "Geez, what's wrong with you?"

"Hey, Asher Fleming was an illustrious man. You'd be a lucky girl to, you know, do whatever you'd do with him."

"Okay, enough talking about this," Rory said dismissively, holding up her hand for him to stop. She'd already had to go through living with someone who was actually involved with Asher Fleming. She wasn't going to wax and wane about her non-existent involvement. "I had him for a professor and Paris has read a lot of his books. We thought a memorial would be nice."

"Very nice," he echoed, grin in place.

"It's Dunphy!" Finn said loudly, pumping his fist in the air. "I'm sure of it, mate! On to Dunphy and my beautiful redhead!"

Finn headed toward the stairs and Logan said, "I better follow him and stop another restraining order in its tracks. I'll see you later."

"Bye," Rory said, watching him follow Finn. She clutched the leftover flyers to her to her chest and murmured, "They really are a weird bunch."

* * *

Rory walked around the common area, rearranging the trays of food that Paris asked her to pick up from a nearby restaurant. Paris ordered all of Asher's favorite appetizers, ones of which Rory was pretty certain no one at the memorial would touch. But Paris wanted them, and tonight Paris was going to get anything she wanted barring a felony. Paris stood by one of the end tables, arranging Asher's latest book into a sort of display.

"Do you think this looks nice?" she asked, glancing back at Rory. "I thought it would be easy to recreate those book displays at bookstores. Any old Jack or Jill could do it. But it turns out they require more skill than I thought."

"I think it looks nice," Rory told her. "You have very adequate book display-ing skills."

"Thanks," Paris said weakly, returning to her work.

Janet walked out of her room, clad in running gear. She put in one of her earphones as she asked, "When does this thing you guys are doing go until again?"

"It's not a _thing_," Paris snapped. "It's a memorial service for one of this University's most beloved professors!"

"Okay," Janet said slowly. "How long will this _memorial service _go?"

"I don't know," Rory said. "It depends on how many people show."

"Alright. I'll stick with 10 tonight, then."

"Ten what?" Rory asked.

"Miles," Janet replied easily, putting in her other earbud. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Rory watched her leave, wondering how she would be walking after ten miles. She was pretty sure if she tried that she'd be found passed out in some ditch along the road.

"Ten miles. Can you believe that? It's crazy."

"There's a lot I can't believe with Janet," Paris said bitterly. "Like how she can have such a disregard for another person's passing."

"I'm sure she cares, Paris."

Paris shook her head, stacking more books on the endtable.

"Anyway, I think we have all the food out," Rory said, changing the subject to keep herself from having to hear another diatribe against Janet. They were one of Paris' specialties.

"I'm done with my book display."

The two sat down on the couch and Rory glanced at her watch.

"I guess we wait now."

"Yeah," Paris echoed. "We wait."

* * *

To Rory's absolute relief, around twenty people showed up for the memorial service. Paris was in her element, walking around and sharing stories about Asher. Rory spotted her friend Marty and walked over, giving him a small wave.

"Hey, you made it," she said with a grin.

"I'm pretty sure a memorial service is one of those things you don't _not _show up to."

"Probably a good way of thinking."

"I'm starving, is there any food here?"

"Yes," Rory said. "Although I can't vouch for it being edible."

"Well, that's promising," Marty returned. "What do you have?"

"Deviled eggs, mini meatballs in onion sauce, escargot, and a particularly strong smelling cheese and crackers," Rory prattled off, counting the items off on her fingers as we went along.

"Why in the world would you get this food?"

"It was Professor Fleming's favorite foods," Rory said with a shrug. "And it's probably why he was so thin."

"Yeah. I'll take some of those crackers."

Rory nodded and said, "Well, then follow me."

They went over to where the overpowering cheese and crackers were, and Marty hungrily picked up a few crackers and put them in his mouth. He chewed, an unhappy look flitting over his face.

"Even the crackers are bad."

Rory went to say something when she saw a group of people walk in, one of them carrying a keg.

"Oh crap."

"What?" Marty asked, turning his head to follow her gaze. He saw the keg and said, "Well, that isn't good."

"Why would someone bring a keg to a memorial? Oh my God, what if Paris sees?"

"It's a Friday night. People might have heard of this second hand and thought it was a party."

"We have to do something."

"You stay here," Marty said. "I'll handle it."

He walked over to the keg-bearing-party and another group flooded in through the door, Logan at the helm. He saw her immediately and walked over.

"This is a pretty good turnout," he noted. "I'd say those flyers of yours worked."

A group pushed in behind them, loud and raucous. Rory swallowed hard and said, "I think they might have worked too well."

"Huh?" Logan glanced to his side and saw two girls sharing a water bottle filled with an unnaturally blue drink. "Oh."

"People think it's a party," Rory said, panic creeping into her voice. "They think a memorial for a Professor is a party."

"Hey, calm down, it's going to be fine."

"Where's Paris?" she said immediately, turning around as she looked for her roommate. Thankfully, Paris appeared blithely unaware of how the night was devolving as she was caught in a serious conversation with a group near the books. She was pointing out passages to them, and not one looked ready to run. That was a good sign.

"Dude, where's the booze?" a guy asked Logan, his voice clearly showing the cornucopia of drinks he imbibed before arriving.

"There are no drinks," Rory told him. "This is a memorial. Not a party. So…shoo. Go somewhere else."

"Whatever lady," the guy drawled. He saw the girls with the blue-liquid-filled-water-bottle and he ambled toward them as he slurred, "Hey ladies!"

Marty came back over, hobbling a bit, and said, "So, about the keg…"

"There's a keg here?" Logan said in disbelief. "Okay, people really do think this is a party."

"They won't leave," Marty said. "I tried to take the keg and someone kneed me in a place you really don't want to be kneed."

"Ouch," Logan said, wincing.

"Yeah, you got that right. So, I don't know what we're going to do."

"This is awful," Rory lamented. "Paris will only stay oblivious for so long, and when she finds out what's happening she is going to freak. "

"Hold on, I have an idea," Logan said. "I'll be right back."

He walked away and Rory murmured, "Where's he going?"

Logan went over to Finn and Colin and told them something. They exchanged nods and the three of them went off in different directions, saying something to groups as they passed. All of a sudden the groups started dispersing, making their way toward the exit. Paris noticed and called out, "Don't forget to take your free books!"

She handed Asher's books out to whomever was closest as the crowd slowly shuffled out of the dorm. Logan came back over to Rory and Marty and said, "So, I don't know how many people you'll have left, but the party has officially been moved."

"What did you do?"

"I told them there's a party at my place," he said with a shrug.

"And it worked just like that?"

"Our parties are pretty legendary."

Rory shook her head, still not grasping it all, and said, "But, you guys are here…"

"No, I am. The guys are heading back to the dorm now. And with Finn there's always enough alcohol in the dorm to get a small army drunk. So, we're set."

"Wow, that's…thanks," she said, relief flooding her. She glanced over at Paris who was standing to the side of the room, clutching one of Asher's books to her chest. She caught Rory's gaze and walked over, a small smile spreading on her mouth.

"Can you believe all the people that came?" she said. "It must have been thirty or forty people right?"

"Uh, sure," Rory said warily.

Paris grinned, shaking her head. "He really was a phenomenal man to bring those types of numbers." Her voice cracked as she added, "Tonight was perfect."

Paris turned around and walked back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"I can't believe it worked," Rory murmured. "It actually worked."

Logan grinned. "Yes, it did. Well, I should head out. I hear there's a swinging party going on at my apartment."

"Thank you again," Rory said.

"No problem. It's not that far from my usual Saturday night. Although there probably wouldn't be random Asher Fleming books floating around."

"It'll add some culture to your party."

Logan laughed. "I'll see you later, Ace."

He walked out and Marty murmured, "Who's Ace?"

Rory felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she realized she had all but forgotten Marty was there.

"That would be me," she said, rocking back on her heels.

"Huh, okay then. You need help cleaning up?"

"Nah, I think I'll just do it tomorrow morning. I'm beat. Planning memorials is surprisingly hard work."

"I'd believe it," Marty said. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow in class."

"Yeah, see you then."

She walked Marty to the door, and then he left. She turned back into the common area and let out a long exhale before going into her bedroom and settling in for the night.

**A/N: As much as I appreciate all the Follows and Favorites for this story (and I do) if you are reading PLEASE review. I have no way of knowing your thoughts on the chapters/story if you don't tell me. Hope you enjoyed this one!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I have a special holiday chapter for you all. I hope you enjoy it!**

Chapter Four

Rory and Lorelai sat in the elder Gilmore residence's dining room for Friday night dinner. It was just the women there that night, Richard out of town on a business trip.

"Where is Dad again?" Rory asked.

"Copanhagen," Emily answered, taking a bite of her salad.

"Copanhagen," Lorelai repeated. " Do people really do business in Copanhagen?"

"Didn't I just say your father was there for business?"

"Yes, but I feel like that's a place that people say they're going to do business, but they're really doing something else. They go, _Oh yes, Copanhagen, I have some business to attend to there. _But what they really mean is, _I have some drug deals and prostitution rings to oversee. See you on the flipside._"

"Technically that would still be business," Rory mused.

Emily set down her fork and said, "Are you suggesting your father is involved in a drug and prostitution ring?"

"No," Lorelai said. "Dad doesn't have the stomach for it. Although, it would explain all the trips and wads of dollar bills."

"Anyway," Emily said drily, changing the subject. "Tell me how school is going for you, Rory."

Rory was mid-chew when Emily spoke and she swallowed her bite of chicken before answering, "Good."

"Are your classes going well?"

"Yeah, they're hard, but I'm managing. I'm spending a lot of time in the library."

"Hard work is a good thing. It builds character."

"Ay ay," Lorelai piped in, nodding her head.

"Feeling neglected, Lorelai?" Emily asked drily.

"In this house? Never," Lorelai returned. There was a pause in the conversation and Lorelai said, "So, Mom, I wanted to let you know that I won't be able to make it to Friday night dinner next week."

"And why is that?"

"Because I won't be able to make it," Lorelai said slowly. "What part of that wasn't clear?"

"Lorelai, if you will remember correctly, we made a deal."

"Yes, Mom," Lorelai sighed. "How could I forget?"

"And that deal was what, Lorelai?"

"That Rory and I would come here for Friday night dinner. _But_, you said we could miss for emergencies."

"You have an emergency planned a week ahead?" Emily returned drily.

"Yes, I do. It's Stars Hollow's annual Festival of Lights."

"And what does that have to do with you not coming to Friday night dinner?"

"The entire town's decorations are lit up at once, and there are stands with spiced nuts and hot cocoa and cider. But the most important part is the decorations contest."

"Let me guess, you are in the decorations contest?"

"Yes, I am. I do it every year, and every year I lose to Martha Applebaum. It's totally not fair because Martha Applebaum's husband is a carpenter, so he makes her these crazy decorations that no one else can get –"

"Does this story have an end, Lorelai?"

"But this year, I have a plan that will rival anything Martha Applebaum's husband can make."

"You don't have to tell me your plan," Emily said wearily. "You can skip Friday night dinner."

"A gingerbread house," Lorelai said. Emily sighed and retorted, "We're never leaving this table, are we?"

"I find it's better to just let her get it all out," Rory murmured.

"I am going to turn my house into a life-size gingerbead house. Complete with fake icing piping and full-size lollipops dotting my lawn. This year, I will be the champion, and oh, how sweet victory will taste."

"You can skip next week, but Rory should still come."

"And leave Santa Clause without his elves?" Lorelai gasped. "I don't think so."

"Did you just call me an elf?" Rory asked. "And yourself a he?"

"I need Rory. She is a pivotal part of my winning. We both need to miss next week."

"Fine," Emily sighed, realizing that fighting with her daughter any further was futile. "You both can miss next week."

Lorelai grinned wide and said, "I can't wait to see Martha Applebaum's face when I trounce her this year."

* * *

The next morning Rory stood in the dining hall, filling several bowls to the brim with fruit loops. When she filled her tray with bowls she walked out into the seating area and settled at her usual table. Paris typically ate with her but was sleeping in after a late night at the lab. After Asher Fleming's death, Paris had been throwing herself even more into her schoolwork. Rory figured it was at least an effective way to deal with grief. She'd been afraid Paris would craft out her feelings, and was happy her roommate had instead chosen an outlet that didn't make the entire dorm room smell like glue.

"That is a lot of cereal," Logan said from behind her, stepping around to the other side of the table and sitting opposite her.

"I have a big appetite in the morning," Rory answered easily.

"I get you, I'm usually a two-bowl-man in the morning," he said. "But seven…" he counted again and corrected himself. "Eight bowls? It's ambitious. I'll give you that."

Rory laughed, digging her spoon into the one bowl that she actually intended to eat.

"Alright, you got me. I'm only eating this one." She leaned forward conspiringly and said in a low voice, "I'm sneaking the rest out."

"Okay," he returned in like, leaning forward and hands flat on the table. "Why are we talking like we're setting up a drug deal?"

"Because I'm breaking the rules," she said. "You're not supposed to sneak food out."

"You're kidding," Logan murmured, straightening up. "That's what you're worried about? You do realize you pay to eat as much as you want here. You could take all the cereal and no one could say anything."

"Yes, you can _eat _as much as you want but no food is supposed to leave the dining hall. Therefore, I am going to be breaking the rules."

"You know what, my dad's donated enough money here to get a ten year supply of cereal. You take as much as you want."

"Well, thank you," Rory said, eating a spoonful of fruit loops.

"So, why do you have so much here? Bulking up on study food? I gotta say, it's an unusual choice. I'd peg you as more of an apple and string cheese girl."

"It's for my mom."

"She has pressing fruit loop needs?"

Rory grinned. "Yes, actually. We have this Festival of Lights back home on Friday and one of the events is a decorations contest. My mom competes every year. She wants some fruit loops to make decorations with."

"What is she using them for?"

"No idea," Rory said through a full mouth. Logan smirked and she made sure to chew and swallow before speaking again. "My mom gets sort of crazy about this, so I do my best not to question her actions."

"What else do they do at this festival? Besides the lights, of course. And the decorations contest. Man, that's already a packed festival."

Rory grinned. "Along with the lights there are stands with hot cocoa and cider. Ms. Patty, our town's dance instructor, has her kids do a little Nutcracker performance in the dance studio, and there's always at least one kid who has absolutely no idea what's going on."

"It sounds like fun," Logan said, voice warm. "Where are you from again?"

"Stars Hollow."

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of that place," Logan said, nodding. "Really small? Right off the turnpike?"

Rory nodded. "Yep, that's us."

"I'll have to check it out sometime."

"You should," Rory enthused. There was nothing she enjoyed more than sharing her town. "You could even stop by when we're not having a festival. Stars Hollow is pretty entertaining on its own."

Logan laughed. "I can imagine. Maybe I'll even stop by for this Lights Festival thing you're having."

"You'd love it. Definitely one of our top festivals. And we have a lot of them, believe me."

"What are some of the other ones?"

Rory prattled them off one by one. "Fall Festival. Sweet Corn Festival. Festival of Living Art. Snow Festival, which is not to be confused with the Snow Ball Festival."

"Wow, you weren't kidding."

"And those are only the seasonal ones," Rory added.

Logan grinned. "Unbelievable. Well, I need to head to class. It's time to put in my monthly appearance."

Rory was about to ask what the monthly appearance was all about, but then stopped herself. Scooping up a spoonful of fruit loops she said, "I'm not even going to ask. Have fun in class."

He smirked, pulling his messenger bag up over his shoulder. "See you, Ace."

* * *

Lorelai stood in the Dragonfly Inn's kitchen, pretending to perform some oversight function for the menu Sookie had set up for the week. What she was really looking for were the full size cooke-pops that Sookie had promised to make for the decorations contest. Sookie walked into the kitchen from the dining room, wiping her hands on her pants.

"I just served someone their first risotto," she squealed in delight, hands held out in front of her. "Can you believe that? My risotto is the _very first _risotto that will be in that woman's mouth."

"Wow," Lorelai enthused. "Pretty impressive stuff, Sook."

"She was in her mid-thirties, too. Imagine living for some thirty-odd years without having tasted risotto." Sookie paused for a second and added, "I can't! I'm trying to imagine it, and I can't!"

"Me neither," Lorelai said off-handedly. "So, Sookie, any chance you have some of my cookies done?"

"What cookies?" Sookie said innocently passing Lorelai as she moved to the other side of the kitchen.

"Ha ha, Sookie, very funny. You know what cookies I'm talking about. The ones that will finally let me triumph over that troll Martha Applebaum."

"We're calling her a troll now?"

"She actually went to Taylor this week to make sure that her decorations didn't violate zoning codes in her neighborhood. Presumptuous, much?"

"Zoning codes? What is she doing, bringing in live animals or something?"

"What would the live animals be for?" Lorelai asked, picking up a peapod from the counter and popping it in her mouth.

"I don't know. A reenactment of the Nativity scene, maybe?"

Lorelai frowned. "Damn, that's good." She picked up another pea pod. "I hope it's not that."

"Well, you don't have to worry because…" she turned to the counter and lifted a sheet of tinfoil that had been over a set of cookie trays. Beneath the tinfoil were number of large circular cookies that were iced to look like the tops of lollipops. All the cookies were baked with sturdy wooden sticks in them. "…you have these!"

"Sookie, these look amazing," Lorelai said, stepping forward. They were better than she even imagined. "You can eat them, right?"

"Yes, you can," Sookie sai with a grin. "And I have a few other designs up my sleeve, too. I was thinking I could make some gum drop ones you could have lining the walkway to your front steps. And maybe some ornaments to go on your tree."

"Sookie, that's amazing. _You _are amazing! This isn't making you have too much work, is it?"

"No, I like it!" Sookie assured her. "It's a fun change of pace. Plus, I haven't done royal icing cookies in forever!"

"Well, good. You're getting major-awesome-points for this." As Lorelai walked out she tossed over her shoulders, "You're practically a platinum member now!"

* * *

Rory came home to an empty house, and figured correctly that her mom was at Luke's. She walked into the only place in Stars Hollow that seemed to not have the holiday spirit, and promptly heard Taylor bemoaning the lack of "holiday-glee" to its owner.

"You could at least put up a wreath," Taylor said, leaning over the counter as Luke pointedly ignored him. "We are all a part of this town, Luke. And as a part of this town, it is our job to establish and maintain holiday cheer."

"I'll tell you where you can put your holiday cheer," Luke griped.

Rory joined her mom at the table nearest to the counter and gave her Mom a quick kiss on the cheek before joining in on the voyeurism that was watching Luke be berated by Taylor. It happened every year at every holiday. Luke refused to show holiday spirit and Taylor commented on it. Every year and every holiday, it went the same way.

"What about some nice holiday decals on your window?" Taylor tried.

"No."

"Some lights?"

"No."

"A Christmas tree, then? It may be a bit more denominational, but so very festive."

"If I don't want the others, why would you think I'd want a tree?" Luke asked, shaking his head as he walked past Taylor to take someone's order.

"Well, what about some seasonal drinks," Taylor suggested. He glanced at the man whose order Luke was talking and asked, "Wouldn't you like a nice peppermint hot chocolate or eggnog latte?"

"Those sound pretty good," the guy said.

"You can go to Westons for that synthetic crap," Luke said. "I only serve real coffee here, end of story."

"Speaking of that real coffee," Lorelai called out. "Think we can get some over here?"

"Gladly," Luke said, giving Taylor a look. He went over to the Gilmore girls' table and poured them each a cup.

"So, what time are you coming over to put up the lights?" Lorelai asked.

"You're putting up lights at her house?" Taylor immediately asked, outrage coloring his words. "But, Luke, I thought you were against all such holiday cheer."

"Keep your pants on, Taylor. I'm doing her a favor," Luke said drily. He glanced down at Lorelai and said, "I'll be there early tomorrow morning."

"That's what I like to hear."

Luke went back behind the counter and Lorelai tilted her head to the side as she said, "How much better would the house look if I had Luke on the roof in a Santa costume?"

Rory smirked. "Keep dreaming."

* * *

The next day was spent prepping the Gilmore house for the competition. There was a fresh blanket of snow from the night before, which Lorelai took as a good omen.

"Snow and I have an understanding," Lorelai said, working with Rory on the miniature gingerbread house that Sookie had designed after their house. Sookie had made the main infrastructure and left it to Lorelai and Rory to decorate it.

"And what is that?"

"Only good things happen when it snows. And you know what would be a _really _good thing?"

Rory smirked. "I think I have an idea."

"This isn't looking half bad," Lorelai said after a moment, looking down at the fruitloop walkway they'd made. "We should win just off of this."

Luke walked in, cheeks ruddy from the cold air, and said, "Alright, the lights are up. Check them now so I don't have to come back later."

"You really think I'd be so picky that I'd make you come back later?"

Without hesitation he said, "Yes."

"Well, don't argue with someone when they're right," Lorelai said, standing up from her seat. She walked out and glanced up at the gutters, grinning at what she saw. Luke took her to a hardware store the weekend before and she'd found some amazing lights that mimicked the frosting piping on gingerbread houses.

"This looks amazing," Lorelai said, grasping Luke's arm. "Like, seriously amazing. Thank you."

Luke smiled slightly. "It was no problem. I wouldn't trust you up on a ladder, anyway."

"Neither would I," Lorelai returned easily. "You want some coffee or something inside? We also have some hot chocolate so sweet that it'll rot your teeth right off."

"As tempting as that last part sounded," Luke began drily. "I need to get back to the diner."

"Alright," Lorelai said. "You're going to be here for the competition tonight, though, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You better. I want you there to see Martha Applebaum cry big loser tears when I win."

"Your level of dedication to this is both confusing and disturbing."

Lorelai beamed. "Thank you. I'll see you tonight!"

* * *

The sun set and the moment came for the decorations contest. Rory and Lorelai set outside, the latter nearly bouncing with nervous energy. The final touches had been set, and even Rory had to admit the house looked nice. The lights Luke strung up that afternoon really did look like swoops of frosting dripping from the gutters. The lawn was dotted with Sookie's lollipop cookies and the walkway lined with the gumdrop cookies. The house was illuminated by floodlights Lorelai had picked up at the hardware store with Luke. The final touch sat atop the mailbox - the house's tiny gingerbread replica.

"Lorelai, dear, this is just delicious looking," Ms. Patti said, sidling up to Lorelai. "Are those actual cookies?"

"You bet they are. All the decorations in the lawn are edible."

Ms. Patti floated a hand to her chest and said, "Delicious looking, indeed. You'll put a cookie or two aside for me, won't you dear?"

"Of course," Lorelai said, eyes twinkling. Ms. Patti was on the panel that evaluated decorations and she asked, "Does this mean I have your vote?"

"Just between the two of us," Ms. Patti said in a low voice. "You have more than just mine. You hit it out of the ballpark this year, Lorelai!"

Ms. Patti ambled off to the next house and Lorelai rushed to her daughter's side.

"I just got some insider info – I'm in the lead!"

"That's great!" Rory said.

"This is so exciting," Lorelai enthused. "Do you want to get us some congratulatory coffee from Luke's?"

"Isn't that bad luck?"

"No such thing tonight," Lorelai said with a wide grin.

"Alright, then, I'll be back."

Rory set off into town, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she walked. She made good time to Luke's and walked in, pulling her hands from her pocket. The diner was empty save for a pair sitting in the corner. She paid them little attention until she heard a familiar Australian drawl.

"Finn?" she said in confusion. Sure enough, it was him with Colin at his side, and a second later Logan emerged from the bathrooms in the back.

"What are you all doing here?"

"Slow night for parties," Colin said.

"Nothing on the telly," Finn added.

"Well, you sure know how to make someone feel good," Rory deadpanned. Logan laughed and assured her, "This wasn't our very last resort. Playing bridge with Colin's stepmom gets that honor."

"Well, don't I feel special," Rory returned.

"The town seems pretty quiet for a festival," Logan said, moving over to the counter with her.

"They're all down by Maple and Oak," Rory answered. "The decorations contest is happening now."

"And what are you doing here?"

"My mom requested some celebratory coffee," Rory told him. Cesar came out from the back room and grinned, asking for their order. Rory glanced at Logan and he shook his head, gesturing back toward the table with Finn and Colin where they already had drinks.

"Just two coffees to go then," Rory said.

"You said celebratory coffee, right?" Logan asked. "Your mom won, then?"

"No. She's feeling lucky."

"Huh, alright then. You were right, by the way. About the coffee. It's the best I've had."

She grinned. "I told you. You can't beat Luke's."

"Here you go," Cesar said, pushing the two cups of coffee toward her. Rory handed him a few bills and then turned around.

"Well, I'm heading back to the contest if you want to join me," Rory said. "But, only under one condition."

"And what is that?" Logan asked with a grin.

"You have to go on about how great the house looks to my mom."

"I think we can manage that," Logan said. He glanced back at Colin and Finn. "Right boys?"

"False flattery is what we do best," Colin said.

"Indeed it is!" Finn said loudly.

Rory nodded appreciatively. "Well, then on we go."

* * *

Lorelai saw her daughter approach with three unfamiliar men and remarked, "Did those come with the coffee?"

"No," Rory said with a grin.

Lorelai shook her head. "And here I was thinking that Luke's service has improved."

"Mom, this is Logan, Colin and Finn. They go to school with me."

"It's great to meet you all," Lorelai said, taking the coffee from Rory.

"The house behind her is ours," Rory said in a low voice, sparking them into their waterfall of praise.

"My goodness, that house behind you is exquisite!" Finn said.

"Look at those decorations! All the decorations!"

Rory winced at their attempts at false flattery and murmured, "This really isn't their thing, is it?"

"There's a reason they're single," Logan returned with a small grin.

"Alright, everyone!" Taylor said loudly. "Everyone, settle down! Settle down! Our panel has considered the entries to the decorations contest and we are ready to announce the winner.

Lorelai crossed both her fingers, murmuring something fervently under her breath. Rory listened carefully and smirked when she heard that her mother was praying to Yoko Ono.

"You all did a wonderful job this year. The competition was very slim."

"Announce the winner already!" Babette yelled.

"This is a very impatient town," Logan remarked.

"We want things when we want them," Rory returned, sending Logan into a bout of laughter.

"Alright, alright," Taylor said wearily. He regained his excitement, however, as he announced, "This years' winner of the decorations contest is…Lorelai Gilmore and her gingerbread house!"

"Yes!" Lorelai yelled, clapping her hands together gaily. She turned to Rory and gave her a tight hug. "We did it, babe!"

Behind them Martha Applebaum stamped her foot on the ground and stormed off, yelling at her carpenter husband the entire time.

* * *

The entire town gathered in the town square after the decorations contest, anxiously awaiting the lights to turn on. Taylor stood at the podium, beaming as he began the countdown. The entire town counted with him, their voices ringing out as they went –

FIVE!

FOUR!

THREE!

TWO!

ONE!

"And let there be lights!" Taylor cried out, grandly sweeping his arms out to the side, eyes closed as he enjoyed his moment of glory. He knew there was something wrong when there was no applause. Only a low din of chatter, and when his eyes drifted open he was mortified to see the town dark.

"What in the…"

"Taylor!" Kirk yelled, running into the town square. "It blew! The generator blew!"

"What do you mean it blew, Kirk?"

"We must have had too much this year!"

"We did not have too much," Taylor snapped. "We have the same amount every year. And every other year the generator has not blown!"

Kirk stood rooted in place, mouth opening and closing methodically as he tried to come up with something to say.

"I think he's about to murder a lot of people," Colin noted.

"He does have that look about him," Logan agreed.

"Both of you stop it," Rory said, shaking her head. They might not realize it, but this was a pretty big deal. She'd never been at a Festival of Lights where there were no lights. It occurred to her that they were missing a person and she asked, "Where's Finn?"

"I believe he is using the distraction as a chance to spike the hot cider," Logan said.

"He's what?" Rory said, eyes widening.

"Don't worry, I emptied his flask out earlier today and filled it with water," Logan said. "I figured Finn's base level of drunkenness would be enough for a Stars Hollow event."

"But, he's been taking swigs from it all night," Rory said in confusion.

"Finn's taste buds are surprisingly dulled from all his drinking. You could tell him apple juice is whiskey and he'd believe you."

"Huh, interesting."

Across the town square Lorelai was standing with Luke, arms wrapped tightly around her as she said, "This is my doing."

"What?" Luke said. "What are you talking about?"

"My winning this year threw off the balance," Lorelai said, shaking her head. "And now look what happened. A Festival of Lights without lights."

"This is not your fault," Luke told her firmly.

Lorelai frowned and glumly returned, "I bet if Martha Applebaum won we'd have lights."

Luke sighed. "Alright, you stay here."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and said, "I'm going to get us some lights."

* * *

"We can't have our dancing sugar plumbs now," Ms. Patti said morosely. "I guess they'll just have to wait until next Christmas."

"I'll be too old then," little Suzy Walker said, beginning to cry.

"I know, sweetie," Ms. Patti said, gathering her in her arms. "I know."

"I hate the Festival of Lights!" Suzy yelled.

"You guys might take these things a little too seriously," Logan noted.

"That is very possible," Rory said. "Want to get some spiced nuts?"

Logan nodded, and the pair walked over to the nut stand. Across the quad, Colin and Finn tried their best with some Stars Hollow co-eds.

"I feel like I should stop that," Rory mused.

"You saw their flattery skills earlier. Your town's female population is in very little danger."

Rory laughed. She got them each a packet of nuts, but then turned in surprise when the town's lights suddenly lit in all their opulent glory. Even Logan – having seen the society's best light displays – was awed by it.

"They fixed it," Rory breathed out, grinning wide.

Logan glanced at her, struck suddenly by the way the lights illuminated her face. The moment was broken when Lorelai joined them, happily plucking a nut from her daughter's package as she said, "I didn't do it! They're back!"

"Who thought you did it?"

"Well, I thought I cursed the entire town with my winning," Lorelaid said lightly. "But, now everything's back to normal."

Luke walked over and Lorelai asked, "What did you do?"

"It was nothing," Luke said dismissively. "I re-routed the lights to the diner's backup generator."

"It is not nothing," Lorelai said slowly. "You saved the Festival of Lights. Heck, you saved Christmas!"

Logan grinned, looking down at Rory. "This really is a magical place."

She smiled up at him. "Yes, yes it is."

**A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here's another holiday chapter! It is a bit early for the given holiday...but I think you'll enjoy it :)**

Chapter Five

Rory and Lorelai sat in their rec room, feet propped up on the coffee table while they watched a marathon of Arrested Development playing on one of their cable channels. Lucille Bluth came on the screen, martini in hand, and Lorelai remarked, "Sometimes this family reminds me of my own."

"How?"

"My mother is about as warm as Lucille."

"That is not true," Rory countered. "And what about Grandpa? I'm pretty sure he's not in jail."

"As far as we know," Lorelai pointed out. "I haven't heard from either of them in a few days. Which, now that I think about it, is a little strange."

Rory rolled her eyes. "They're probably just busy. And – you are an only child. The Bluths have four children."

"Fine, we're not _exactly _like the Bluths but there are some similarities. I'm pretty sure one of our cousins on Grandpa's side has a hook hand."

"No way," Rory said. "That can't be true."

"Things like that happen, kid. It's the harsh truth."

"Why wouldn't he get a prosthetic hand, though? Wouldn't that be more useful?"

"Yes, wouldn't it?" Lorelai echoed.

Rory thought about it for a moment and said, "Maybe he has a pirate obsession."

"Or found a lady with a pirate fetish."

"Oh gross," Rory said, sinking further into the couch. She picked up her phone from next to her and glanced at the screen. Sighing softly, she put it back down and crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"You're worrying about your grades again, aren't you?" Lorelai asked.

"Shouldn't they have come by now? I mean, it's December 28th. We've been off school for almost two weeks now."

"They'll come when they come, babe. And you have nothing to worry about. You're my freakishly smart daughter, remember? You're going to be fine."

Rory stiffened a bit in the couch and stammered, "What if I failed my classes, and that's why I haven't gotten grades?"

"Come on, Rory. That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not. They don't send grades because you have to retake all your classes." Rory sat up, breaking into a cold sweat. "Oh my God, that's it. I failed all my classes."

"Hey, calm down," Lorelai said. "What about Paris? Has she gotten her grades?"

"No."

"Well, the odds are pretty low that both you and Paris failed all your classes," Lorelai offered. "I'd argue that the odds are pretty low that even _you _failed all your classes, but I kind of sense you're beyond that right now."

Rory didn't say anything and Lorelai slipped her arm around her shoulders. Squeezing gently she said, "You have nothing to worry about, kid. And just think, if you did fail all your classes you can still marry rich. Just say the word and Emily and Richard will have a line of eligible bachelors with trust funds at our doorstep."

Rory laughed a bit, leaning her head against Lorelai's shoulder. "I love you, Mom."

Lorelai kissed the top of her head and murmured, "I love you too, babe."

* * *

Logan stretched out on the couch, reaching back and repositioning the pillow behind his head. Honor walked in, a cup of coffee in her hand. Logan glanced at it and asked, "Got one of those for me, too?"

"What, did your legs suddenly stop working?"

Logan smirked. "Aren't you a peach this morning?"

"Josh and I got in a huge fight last night," Honor said, plopping down on the chair opposite him. "Which means I got zero sleep. And then he calls this morning and re-starts the fight. Who does that?"

"Probably the son of a high-power attorney."

"Sometimes I wish I could reach through the phone and slap him," Honor sighed. "Anyway, don't you look like the vision of luxury?" Honor eyed his feet up on the couch and said, "Mom would kill you if she saw your dirty feet up on her expensive upholstery."

"Well, it's a good thing she's not here," Logan quipped. "Where are her and dad this time? Aspen? Capri? Hell?"

Honor sniggered at that last part and said, "I think Aspen. I heard something about skiing."

"Mitchum and Shira do not ski."

"No," Honor agreed. "But I'd bet my money on some attractive ski instructors with loose morals."

"Ah, their favorite type."

"So," Honor began, taking a sip of her coffee. "I assume you're throwing your annual New Years Eve party?"

"You assumed correctly," Logan said, sitting up. "What's the point of having absentee parents if you don't take advantage of their absences."

He stood up and walked to the kitchen for coffee. Over his shoulder he said, "You know, you can invite Josh. That is, if you've made up by New Years."

"We will," Honor said with complete surety. "By dinner tonight he will realize what a complete ass he's been and call with an apology."

"You have this all worked out, huh?"

"I better. We do this almost every month."

Logan raised his coffee in a toast and said, "I see a very happy future for you two."

"Oh hush, at least we genuinely like each other. Considering what we came from, that's a step up."

"Can't argue with that."

"So, what about you, little brother."

Logan sat back down on the couch and asked, "What about me?"

"Is there anyone you genuinely like back at Yale?"

Logan laughed. "Come on, Honor, you know that's not my thing."

"I know," Honor said dismissively. "But, I'm telling you, one day you will meet a girl and it _will _be your thing. And I cannot wait for that day."

Logan settled back against the pillow and said, "Well, you'll be waiting for a long time."

* * *

Rory always liked Friday night dinners around the holidays. The food typically was good at her grandparent's house – Emily had one of the best cooks in Hartford – but everything was a little better around the holidays. Tonight the cook served chicken kievs plump with melted butter and spinach. Lorelai picked out all the spinach, much to Emily's annoyance.

"Lorelai, why don't you just eat the spinach?"

"Because, I don't like spinach," Lorelai returned, methodically picking the spinach from her slices of kiev.

"You are ruining the dish, Lorelai."

"No, I'm making it better," Lorelai argued. "Beause spinach is disgusting. It's right up there with avocado."

"Not this again," Emily sighed. "We know you dislike avocado, Lorelai. Everyone in Hartford practically knows by now."

"It's a useless vegetable," Lorelai began. "And it does not belong on food, unless it is in guacamole form. Other than that-"

"Wait, you like guacamole?" Emily asked, eyebrows furrowed together.

'Uh, yeah. Who doesn't like guacamole?" Lorelai asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Richard and Rory exchanged a look, both of them well aware they were heading into dangerous avocado-argument-territory.

"If you don't like avocados then you wouldn't like guacamole," Emily said. "It's made almost entirely of avocados."

"Yes, but the texture is different. And the taste. It's completely different, Mom."

"No, it's-"

"Emily," Richard interrupted. "Why don't you tell the girls about our New Years party."

Rory leaned in toward her grandpa and said, "Good job, Grandpa."

"Yes, the usual party that your grandfather and I go to on New Years Eve has been cancelled. So, we decided to host one ourselves this year. We've never had one before and we thought it would be fun. We'd like both you and Rory to be there. Of course, Rory, if you already have a party to go to then you should go to that. It's very important for young people to socialize with people their own age."

"What about me?" Lorelai piped in. She glanced between her parents and asked, "What about my socializing with people my own age?"

Beside her Rory snorted and quickly hid it with a sip of water.

"There will be many people here that are your age, Lorelai," Emily said slowly. "But, if you have plans then you may excuse yourself from the party, as well."

"I have plans," Lorelai said immediately. Emily cast a doubtful glance toward Lorelai and asked, "Where?"

"A house. In Stars Hollow. A house in Stars Hollow."

Pursing her lips into a frown, Emily asked, "Whose house, Lorelai?"

Lorelai squirmed a bit in her seat and remarked, "Gee, what's with the Gilmore Inquisition? I said I had another party, Mom."

"When one is turning down an invitation due to a prior engagement, Lorelai, it is customary to at least say what the prior engagement is."

"Did Emily Post write that down somewhere?"

"Yes, actually. She did."

Lorelai shook her head and said, "Wow, okay. That was meant as a joke. But, fine. You want to know where I'm going? I'm going to um…Martha Applebaum's house."

"That woman from the festival of lights that you despise?" Emily asked politely, proving she never forgets anything said at her dinner table. Lorelai swallowed hard and said, "Yes. Our relationship took a turn for the better."

"Fine," Emily said, yielding to her daughter's story. "Have fun at Martha Applebaum's party. But, if you happen to be without a party, for whatever reason, you are more than welcome to come here."

* * *

"Did you hear her in there?" Lorelai griped, turning onto the highway. "If you happen to be without a party. It's like she expects me to have no plans."

"Well, do you have plans?" Rory asked.

"No, but that's beside the point. I'll get plans. I'm an exciting person. I have friends." Rory gave her a look and said, "I _will_ find plans. Anything would be better than that freakshow they're having over there."

"It didn't sound that bad."

"What about you? Do you have any plans?"

"I don't know," Rory said. "Logan texted me about a party at his house. But, I don't know if I'm going."

"Why not? It sounds like it'll be a good time."

"I've never really liked parties," Rory said. "I don't drink a ton."

"Which I am huge fan of," Lorelai interjected.

"And you know I like to be in bed by ten. I'd probably crash by eleven and be that person asleep on the couch before midnight."

"Oh, you don't want to be that person," Lorelai said, cringing. "I remember what we did to that person at parties. A lot of shaving cream. A lot of permanent markers."

"So, yeah, I think I'll stay home."

"Well, I don't think you should completely count the party out," Lorelai said. "See how you feel closer to New Years Eve. You never know, you might change your mind. Crazier things have happened."

* * *

The next day Rory met Lane at Luke's for a quick lunch before hitting the bookstore. It was unseasonably warm that day and Rory loosened the scarf from around her neck, slipping it over her head and stashing it in her pocket. The Christmas decorations had just begun being taken down, half the town still looking like a Christmas wonderland and the other half bare. Rory and Lane passed Kirk who was up on a ladder, ineffectively trying to take down a large trumpet made of garland on the top of the light post.

"Can someone help me?" he called out to the other helper about three light posts down. "The trumpet won't come off."

"Just pull, Kirk!" the guy yelled back. "You just pull!"

"I've been pulling! I-" he gave it a yank and it came off, nearly making Kirk topple off the ladder. He grabbed onto the light post and wrapped his arms tightly around the pole. "I got it! I-I got it!"

"Man, I missed this town," Rory sighed contently.

They passed the Kim antique shoppe and Mrs. Kim scurried past the open doorway, a sizeable group of men and women traipsing after her.

"What's that all about?" Rory asked.

"We have an antiquing society visiting today," Lane explained. "My mom hopes to sell some of the end tables we've had since before I was born. I saw her put a few signs out claiming they belonged to dead presidents."

"I didn't think Mrs. Kim would stoop that low."

"That woman will do just about anything to sell an end table. One time I was pretty sure she was trying to throw me in as part of a deal."

"Was the guy she was selling it to at least attractive?" Rory asked.

"It was a woman."

They turned the corner and the Red and Black Bookstore sat only a few feet away. Rory promised Lane she'd wait to go until the two of them could go together. She'd held off for a few weeks as both were tied up with family engagements. The Kims have a large number of relatives form Korea visit for Christmas, and Lane is always busy with entertaining and helping to make the pounds of kimchee that she is then forced to eat for weeks after.

"You know, we're almost out of the kimchee," Lane remarked, following Rory into the bookstore.

"Really? Is that a Kim family record or something?"

Lane laughed, running her hands over the cover of a book as she passed. "One of the relatives asked for about two pounds to bring to a homeless shelter. It made a pretty good dent in our leftovers."

Rory's phone began to buzz in her pocket and she pulled it out, smiling a bit when she saw Logan's name flashing on the screen. Lane glanced at the screen and asked, "Is this the Logan guy from the Festival of Lights?"

Rory nodded. "Do you mind if I…"

She pointed to the side of the store and Lane shook her head immediately and said, "No, you go talk to your cute boy."

Rory tried to tell her it wasn't like that (why did everything think it was like that?) but she walked off before Rory could make a comment. She clicked into the call and brought the phone to her ear.

"Hi Logan."

"Hey there Ace, how are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm at a bookstore with one of my friends."

"Don't buy out the entire inventory now."

Rory laughed, leaning against the wall. "I won't. What's up?"

"I'm calling to extend a personal invitation to my new years eve bash."

"I got the text," she said, not understanding. Wasn't that a personal invitation? It came from his phone.

Logan laughed. " Yeah, but that was a mass text. About one hundred people got it."

"One hundred people?" Rory said, voice raised. She got a few looks and mouthed a quick sorry, turning toward the wall.

"I told you before my parties were legendary. Anyway, I really hope you can make it. The new years party is usually one for the books."

"Well, I'll think about it."

"Okay," Logan said. He paused and then said, "Alright, you thought about it. Are you coming?"

She laughed. "I don't know. I'm not a big partier."

"You don't have to be a big partier, Ace. My parties accommodate all sorts of people."

"I don't really drink."

"I'll make sure to have some sparkling grape juice just for you," he tried, and she felt herself smile without even trying. "Just promise you'll come and I'll make sure you have a good time."

She thought about it for a moment. It seemed like he really wanted her to be there, and the alternative was either staying home or going to her grandparent's. Some fun couldn't hurt. And he promised she'd have a good time.

"Alright," she said. "I'll be there."

* * *

The night of the party Rory stood in front of her closet, going through her clothes to try to find something nice for the party. She found a deep blue dress with silver thread running through it. She didn't remember buying it, but when she turned toward the mirror and held it in front of her, it was perfect.

"I thought you'd like that," Lorelai said from the doorway. Rory glanced back and asked, "Are you the one who got this?"

"Yeah, I was out in Woodberry and I was in this cute little shop. I thought of you the minute I saw this dress."

"It'll be good for tonight, right?"

"Yes! That's why I bought it," Lorelai said with a grin. "You need to arrive in style for your first new year's eve party. Oh, I have a necklace that'll go great with it. Hold on."

Lorelai rushed out and Rory took the moment to slip into the dress. When Lorelai returned she ginned wide, nodding happily.

"Damn I chose well," Lorelai said. She motioned for Rory to turn around and she draped a chunky silver necklace around her neck, clasping it in the back.

"There," Lorelai said. "You look perfect."

"What about my hair?"

"Leave it. You look great, kid. Those people at the party aren't going to know what hit them."

"What about you? Did you figure out what you're doing tonight?"

"No," Lorelai said, sitting heavily down on the bed. "No one is having people over. I thought Ms. Patty might be doing something – she did last year – but she's staying in. Apparently she had too much mulled wine at the Festival of Lights and has sworn of alcohol for at least a month. Luke never does anything. Sookie and Jackson are staying in with Martha." Lorelai sighed, laying down on the bed. "Why is this town so boring?"

"You could always go to Grandma and Grandpa's party," Rory suggested.

"Ugh, don't even say that," Lorelai complained.

"But you could. They'll have good food."

"And good booze," Lorelai admitted. "But, I'd have to drive home. So, minimal fun with the good booze."

"It'd still be a place to go. I bet Grandma and Grandpa would be really happy you were there."

"Yeah, happy I had nowhere else to go. My mother would hold it over my head for months."

"Maybe they'll make the apple turnovers again."

That made Lorelai sit up, and she asked, "You think they would?"

"It's possible."

"They also might have those little stuffed mushrooms," Lorelai said. "They usually always have those at parties. I love those. They're so tiny with such a big flavor."

"Think of the tiny mushrooms, Mom," Rory said, not wanting her Mom to be home alone for the night. If she was going to a party, she wanted Lorelai to be at one, too.

"Hey, maybe I could go to your party?" Lorelai said after a moment.

"Not happening," Rory said, not missing a beat. Lorelai frowned and said, "Fine, I'll go to Richard and Emily's. But they better have those little mushrooms."

* * *

Rory drove nearly the same route that her and Lorelai took every Friday to her grandparents house to get to the Huntzberger residence. They only lived a few blocks away, and when Rory arrived the street was already filled with cars. She thought to herself that they couldn't all be for Logan's party. Surely other houses were having people over, too. But when she knocked on the door and Logan answered it, the loud cacophony behind him made it not at all inconceivable that all those cars were for the party.

"Ace, I see you stayed true to your word," he said, pulling her in for a quick hug.

"Yes, I did," she returned. "This place is already so crowded. I didn't think I was late."

"No, a lot of people just got here early so they could start drinking. Finn's been here since noon."

"Somehow I'm not surprised."

He laughed, placing his hand on her lower back as he led her into the house.

"Let me take your coat. We're piling them up in my sister's bedroom."

She shrugged out of her coat, glancing to the side at a group of people by the stairway. She didn't notice Logan swallow hard as he took in her outfit.

"You look really nice tonight, Ace."

"Thanks. My mom got this for me and put it in my closet like a clothing fairy."

Logan laughed. "Sounds like you're living the dream. Can I get you anything?"

Rory was about to ask for a Coke, but instead impulsively said, "I'll have a beer."

"A beer? Really?" He asked, looking about as surprised as she felt for asking it.

"Yeah, it's new year's eve. I can have one drink."

"Alright, I'll get you a beer. I'll bring your coat upstairs first."

"I can do that," she said immediately.

"No, I've got it. You stay here."

He disappeared into the crowd and she stood awkwardly by herself, hiking her purse up higher on her shoulder. A blonde girl approached her, and she looked familiar but Rory couldn't place her.

"You know, you can put your purse in my room. No one will take anything here."

"Oh, um, I don't mind holding it. I have my cell phone in it, and this dress doesn't have pockets, so…"

"Okay," the girl said, smiling. "I'm Honor, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you," Rory said. She thought about what Honor had said about her putting her purse in her room. "So, you're Logan's sister?"

"For better or worse," she said with a small laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Rory," she said, blushing when she realized she hadn't said her name before. "Logan and I go to school together."

"Rory, you sound familiar," Honor said. "Rory…Rory…oh, are you the girl from Stars Hollow?"

"Yeah, that's me," Rory said with a small grin.

"Logan told me all about your town! He just loved it!"

"It's a pretty loveable place."

Logan joined them, knocking his elbow into Honor's as he said, "Are you playing hostess?"

"I am the hostess, after all. You're usually so bad playing host." Honor turned her attention to Rory. "Last year he passed out at 5pm and didn't wake up until the next morning." She looked back at Logan, "I'm surprised you're still standing right now."

"I thought I'd do things differently this year. So, Ace, I brought you a very special beer. One from my own personal stash."

"You didn't have to," Rory said. "I can just drink what everyone else is having."

"No, you have to have this one. It's a coffee stout."

"They make beer with coffee in it?" Rory asked, eyes wide. Logan laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, it's a bit on the strong side, so you're going to want to go slow, but I think you'll like it."

Rory took a sip, wincing slightly as the acidity hit the back of her throat. She took another sip, and now accustomed to the bitterness she found it surprisingly pleasant.

"What do you think?"

"I like it," she said. "You know, I can sort of taste the coffee."

"See! I knew you'd like it."

Someone called out Rory's name behind them and Rory looked over her shoulder, surprised to see Paris there.

"Paris is here?" she said in disbelief.

"Oh yeah, I kind of accidentally invited her. But, whatever. The more the merrier, right?"

"I should probably…" she gestured back toward Paris and Logan said, "Yeah, go say hi. I'll catch up with you later."

Rory walked off and Honor watched the way Logan's eyes followed her. Taking a dainty sip of her drink she remarked, "I've never seen you dip into your personal beer reserve for these things. You must really like her."

"No one's first beer should be the cheap crap we have in those kegs," Logan said sensibly, taking a pull off of his beer.

"Right," Honor said, patting her brother's arm. "Enjoy the rest of the party, little brother."

* * *

Lorelai walked through her childhood home, clutching a martini with extra olives. Emily had only made one smart remark upon her arrival, and past that seemed genuinely pleased that her daughter was in attendance. The house was surprisingly filled with people, and Lorelai made her way through the crowds in search of those little mushrooms. She'd seen some people eating them, so she knew they existed, but the waiter walking around with trays eluded her. She spotted one and happily went to make her pursuit when a familiar voice said her name behind her. She turned around, positively stricken to see Christopher Hayden standing before her, looking just as handsome as always in a well-cut suit and tie.

"Lor, how did you end up here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," she said with a grin, stepping forward into his arms. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, his cologne tickling her nose.

"Please tell me you're here on a dare," Lorelai said. "I can't stand it if both of us – moderately attractive and fun people – are without new year's eve plans."

"I've actually been kidnapped," Christopher replied. "There's a sensor on my ankle that shocks me if I move more than ten feet from my captor."

Lorelai grinned. "You're so full of it."

"The truth is that I actually didn't have plans. I got the invitation from your parents, and thought what the heck? It could be fun."

"Is Sherri here somewhere?" Lorelai asked, glancing around the room for the diminutive woman.

"No, uh, Sherri and I split up."

"You're what?" Lorelai asked, eyes snapping back to Christopher. "But what about-"

"Gigi is staying with her Sherri for now. It ended amicably, so, we're hoping we can keep it that way."

"I'm sorry, Chris," Lorelai said, laying a hand on his arm. "I really am."

"It's fine," he said with a shrug. "All things end, right?

"I guess," Lorelai said uneasily.

"Anyway, where's that daughter of ours? Please tell me she is somewhere more fun than here."

Lorelai grinned. "She's at a party at one of her friend's houses."

"Good. It's depressing enough that we're both here."

"Oh! The mushrooms!" Lorelai trilled happily, grabbing Christopher's arm and pulling him with her toward the waiter a few feet away. Christopher tripped, nearly sending them straight to the floor but he caught his balance and managed to get a steadying hand on Lorelai's waist before she fell.

"What in the world are you two doing?" Emily asked sharply. As much as she enjoyed seeing Lorelai with Christopher, she hardly enjoyed this display.

"I was excited for the mushrooms," Lorelai said, fighting back laughter. "They're just really good."

Emily glanced at Lorelai's martini and asked, "How many of those have you had, Lorelai?"

"Just one."

Emily looked at Christopher and asked, "Is she telling the truth?"

"I just ran into her a moment ago, Emily."

"Mom, I've only had one, I swear," Lorelai said, the laughter fading as irritation worked its way forward.

Not convinced Emily said, "I'm going to make the waiter come over here again. You need some food in your stomach."

"Alright, whatever you say," Lorelai said. Emily scampered off and Lorelai said, "So, my mistaken drunkenness is making the mushrooms come to me. This could not have turned out better."

* * *

"Can you believe grades are taking this long?" Paris complained. "The entire registrar's office should be fired. This is just ridiculous."

"Yeah," Rory said, taking a sip of her beer. She'd had almost the entire bottle and she felt warm and blurry around the edges. Even Paris' diatribe about grades wasn't upsetting her. She didn't care about grades. Or school. Or anything, really. It was a nice feeling for once to not worry about anything.

"I just want to see my straight A's. There's no way I didn't get all A's. I put in so much more work than everyone else – especially after Asher died."

Rory saw Finn filling up a line of shots and patted Paris on the shoulder as she said, "I'm going to go see what Finn is doing."

She walked over to Finn and asked, "What are all of these?"

"These, my dear, are Fireball shots," Finn said. "They'll put a fire in your belly!"

That sounded terrifying and Rory wanted nothing more than to try it. Finn asked if she wanted one and she nodded fervently, watching as he poured the amber liquid into another shot glass for her. He passed them out and then they all held them out in front for a toast.

"In Omnia Paratus!"

She had no idea what she was saying (she knew it was something Latin although her alcohol brain was a bit slow on the translation), but that did not stop her from saying it with as much solemnity as the others. She hit back the shot, a bit dribbling down the side of her mouth as she felt as if her entire chest were on fire. Her eyes watered and Finn patted her on the back, grin wide as he said, "It's good, right?"

"I think I burned a hole in my esophagus."

Finn clapped his hand on her back again. "Let's do another!"

* * *

After about eight little mushrooms Lorelai decided she'd had enough. Her and Christopher snuck up to the balcony and they sat with other people's coats draped over them to fight off the cold.

"You know what this feels like?" he asked, gazing out through the balcony rods.

"What?"

"Remember when we had to go to all of these parties when we were growing up? And we'd sneak off to some balcony or something."

"We usually had a bottle of something with us then," Lorelai reminisced. "Why did we have to grow up and get responsible?"

"You could always just crash here," Christopher suggested innocently. He laughed when he saw the look Lorelai gave him. "Just a suggestion, Lor."

"I'm pretty sure if I stayed here they'd never let me leave."

"There are some benefits," Christopher returned sensibly. "The food is good. The maid does the laundry."

"They do have a better cable package than me."

Both were silent for a while, the soft din of the party leaking through the windows below. The back door opened and two people stumbled out, the woman laughing as she clutched at the back of the man's suit jacket. The man look back at the door and then pulled the woman against the side wall, burying his face in her neck.

"Are we seeing what I think we're seeing?" Lorelai whispered, hand over her mouth.

"I think we are."

"These parties really livened up since we were kids."

* * *

When Rory was in second grade she got the flu and stayed home from school. For two full days her time was spent being spoon-fed chicken noodle soup from Lorelai and then running to the bathroom to puke it all up. That was the sickest she had ever been.

And then the Huntzberger New Year's Eve party happened.

She didn't know it was possible to puke so many times. It started after the second shot. Or maybe it was the third. She lost track, and people just kept handing her drinks and she didn't want to be rude and not take them. That Fireball. That damn Fireball. She was pretty sure it would make her vomit on sight now.

Honor found her as she was staggering toward what she thought was a wastebin and Honor whisked her upstairs. As she kneeled in front of the toilet, cheek pressed against the seat, she heard voices outside the room.

"She's inside," Honor said.

"Is she okay?" a voice asked. Rory recognized it a moment later as Logan.

"She will be. I think I saw her going drink-to-drink with Finn."

"Oh my God, it's a wonder she's alive. I'm going to go in."

"You might want to leave her alone," Honor suggested. "She was pretty bad."

"Which is exactly why I'm not leaving her alone. You go back to the party, I'll take care of her."

Rory's stomach churned.

"Put her in the guest room," Honor said. "It should be quiet-ish in there."

The door opened and Logan walked inside, closing it softly behind him. Rory glanced back, her mascara in streaks beneath her eyes.

"You shouldn't be here," she murmured. "You should be downstairs with everyone."

"No," he said, crouching behind her and rubbing her back. "I should be here."

"I feel like my insides are dying and coming back up," she said in a small voice.

Logan chuckled. "Yeah, drinking with Finn can do that to you. How much did you have?"

"Too much," she said. She felt her stomach churn terribly and then she jerked forward, emptying what was left of her stomach's contents into the bowl. Logan pulled her hair back with one hand, continuing to rub her back with the other. When she was finished she pulled back a bit, tears streaming down her cheeks from the exertion.

"I-I can't drive home like this."

"Don't worry, you'll stay in the guest room."

"I'm fine," she said, beginning to stand up. She leaned heavily to one side and he quickly slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her inner arm around his neck. "You should go back to the party. I'm fine."

"I know you are," he told her gently. "How about I just get you to bed and then I'll go back downstairs?"

Rory nodded, wiping her eyes messily.

"Let's wash your mouth out first though, okay? You'll thank me later."

He cleaned her up a little and then they made their way to the guest bedroom. She stumbled a bit walking in and nearly took out a large vase beside the doorway.

"Okay, it's really time to get you in bed," Logan said.

The bed had a plush comforter on top of the sheets and he pulled it back to get to the sheets. Rory climbed up on top of the sheets, though, and pulled the comforter up around her shoulders. Logan chuckled a bit at her curled up with only the comforter and reached forward and pulled it up higher to cover her more.

Within a few minutes she was fast asleep.

* * *

"I can't believe we just saw two people have sex against my parent's house," Lorelai said in a low voice. "I…I can't believe we just saw that."

"I think we should go back down. Bad things happen on this balcony."

"Oh, you mean go and look the couple who just had sex against my parent's house in the eyes? I don't think so."

"Did they even come here together?"

"I don't know," Lorelai said. "Can you imagine if they didn't? My mother would be outraged that her party became so tawdry."

"I can't believe you just used the word tawdry," Christopher said, laughing.

Lorelai grinned a bit and knocked her elbow into his arm. After a moment she said, "We probably should go back down there."

"Yeah." Christopher glanced at his watch. "Oh my God, it's almost midnight."

"Seriously? How were we up here that long?"

Christopher grinned and said, "I tend to have this effect on people. Time just flies."

Lorelai rolled her eyes, standing up. She offered her hand to Christopher and said, "Come on, Chris. It's time to face the party. And the potentially awkward sex couple."

* * *

The clock struck midnight and Logan watched drunken coeds messily plant kisses on one another as applause emanated from the television. Logan fended off one ambitious partygoer and walked up the stairs to the second floor. He opened the door to the guest room and walked in, a soft smile pulling at his mouth when he saw Rory fast asleep in the bed.

He stepped to the side of the bed and tentatively brushed her hair away from her face. After a moment of hesitation he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Happy New Years, Ace."

**A/N: Reviews are love.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hope you enjoy this! Make sure to read the A/N at the end...**

Chapter Six

Rory travelled home for the weekend, wanting to check in on how construction was going on the new Dragonfly Inn. Sookie and Lorelai had begun heavy work on it the month prior. With the deed signed and contractors procured, the Dragonfly Inn slowly transitioned from an idea into reality.

The refurbishing of the property was well underway when Rory arrived at the Inn. The outside had already been re-painted and when Rory stepped inside she was met by the loud sounds of construction. She was surprised to find Dean there, working on a light fixture near the staircase.

"Hey, I didn't know you were working here," Rory said.

"Yeah, I started last week."

He looked a bit uncomfortable at her appearing so suddenly, and to smooth things over a bit she asked, "How's married life treating you?"

"It's alright. Lindsay's mom brings fresh baked brownies over at least three times a week."

"You know, I thought you looked a little rounder."

Dean laughed and Rory felt herself relax. See, they could still be friends. He might be married now and she was off at Yale, but that didn't have to change everything between them.

"So, are you still working at Doose's?" Rory asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I do weekends and some nights here, and then the rest of the time at Doose's. It's busy, but I'm managing."

"So, are you taking classes at night or something?" Rory asked. She couldn't imagine juggling two jobs and her school load. Just the thought made her want to lie down. The levity in the conversation disappeared, and she watched Dean awkwardly rub the back of his neck as he said, "I'm actually putting the school thing on a hold for now."

"You're what?" she said, voice sharper than she intended. But what was he thinking? School was important. He couldn't go on being a Doose's bagboy forever.

"It turns out when you get married you have a lot of expenses," Dean said, attempting to lighten the conversation. "I couldn't cover them with just the Doose's pay. So, I had to add this job on. It's too much with school."

'What about Lindsay? Why doesn't she get a job?" Rory asked. The financial problems should fall squarely on Dean's shoulders. Marriage was a partnership – Lindsay should be helping.

"She does have a job," Dean said angrily, his face turning red. "But it's not enough. Look, you have no right to walk in here and judge the way I live my life."

"School is important, Dean," she said forcefully, unwilling to back down. "If you stop now, then who knows when you'll go back?"

"I'll go back," he said with equal force.

"When?" she pushed. "Do you have a plan? Do you have a set time before you go back? Because if you don't –"

"I'll go back when I decide to go back," Dean said loudly, drawing some looks from a group of workers nearby. Noticing them, he lowered his voice and hissed, "Not everyone follows your perfect path, Rory. I'm married now. My priorities are different than yours. So, how about you do us both a favor and stay the hell out of my business."

Rory felt as if she'd been slapped. All she'd been trying to do was show him that he was wasting his potential, but he didn't see it that way. He thought she was interfering. Well, fine. She'd stop interfering. He was free to go off and ruin his life if he wanted.

She stormed off into the inn to find her mom. She found her over by the kitchen, discussing ovens with Sookie.

"Hey babe," Lorelai said brightly. When she noticed the expression on Rory's face she asked, "What's with the long face?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

* * *

The next day Lorelai went over to Sookie's house to go over what type of wallpaper they wanted in the dining room. She sat on the living room couch, eating cookies and coffee that Sookie had prepared. Lorelai always liked meetings at Sookie's because the refreshments were way better than anything she had at her house. There were no homemade cookies at the Gilmore residence.

Lorelai watched Sookie darting around the kitchen, gathering up the ingredients for little Martha's lunch. After a few minutes of pureeing and countless taste tests, Sookie was content with her creation and tried to feed it to Martha. Sookie pushed the spoon in Martha's mouth, who promptly spit the food out the moment the spoon left her mouth.

"I don't get this," Sookie lamented. "I don't get why this is happening!"

"Another one she doesn't like?" Lorelai asked. Sookie had been going on for weeks about how Martha doesn't like any of the baby food that Sookie likes. In the beginning Sookie broke down and bought Gerber baby food, but now she was determined to make something that her daughter would eat.

"I thought this one was a surefire win. It's delicious. I'd even eat this stuff."

"What are you feeding her?" Lorelai asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Cumin-scented sweet potatoes. The doctor said she could start having more starches."

Lorelai took the jar from Sookie and after one sniff handed it back to her and said, "Okay, well, I get why Martha doesn't want to eat this."

"What? It's delicious. All of them are, I swear. I test everything before I give it to her."

"You're seasoning things to your taste, Sook. But Martha is a baby. You have to make things a bit more bland for her."

"Bland?" Sookie said, laughing. "I'm not serving my baby bland food, Lorelai. That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not. You know what ridiculous? Giving you baby cumin-scented anything."

"It's a very delicate spice."

"Make the food blander," Lorelai droned. "Otherwise, your kid is going to starve."

Sookie tried one more time and when Martha still refused to eat it she sighed and said, "Gerber it is. Can you grab one from the pantry?"

Lorelai walked over to the pantry and picked up one of the orange jars and walked back over. Sookie popped the lid off and Martha happily took the spoonful. Staring at the jar, Sookie said, "What is your secret, Gerber?"

"You're talking to a jar of baby food."

"That's nothing," Sookie said, putting another spoonful of the orange goo into Martha's mouth. "Jackson sings to his squash."

"You two really are a strange couple."

* * *

Rory walked with Logan to her second class of the afternoon, both of them warming their hands with coffee from the coffee cart where they had first met. Rory was still thinking about her interaction with Dean that weekend, and vented to Logan.

"It's just ridiculous," she said. "He can do so much more. He's smart, you know. He didn't always do the best in school, but he really is smart."

"Some people don't go the school route," Logan said, hoping he could end this conversation in the near future. This Dean guy had been the topic since before they stopped at the coffee cart.

"I just don't want him to be the Doose's bag boy forever. He has so much potential that's just being wasted. You know, I blame Lindsay."

"Lindsay?"

"His wife," Rory filled in quickly. "He says she's working, but she can do more. If I…" Rory trailed off when she realized what she was about to say.

"If you were what?" Logan asked, glancing over at her.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "It's just…I think he can do more."

"Which you are entitled to think," Logan said. "But this guy is also entitled to go and live his life the way he wants."

"I guess," Rory said, clearly still not convinced by Logan's line of reasoning. "I just want him to be happy. And I don't think he'll be happy spending his life doing side jobs."

Logan noted an undercurrent to what Rory was saying, and it wasn't the first time he'd caught it in the conversation. He cleared his throat a bit and asked, "You said this Dean guy was a friend of yours from Stars Hollow, right?"

Rory nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "Yeah. That's what I said."

"He wasn't more than a friend, was he?" Logan asked, watching her expression. She glanced down at the ground, cheeks flushing. "I just sense there's more here than what you're telling me."

"We dated," she admitted. Logan waited for a moment, feeling like there was more to her admission, and she added, "He was actually my first boyfriend. We dated for about two years."

"This makes more sense now."

"No," she said quickly, eyes earnest. "That's why I didn't tell you before. Our dating has nothing to do with how I feel about him not going to school. We were still friends after we broke up. We still are, at least I hope we still are. I just want what's best for him."

"What's best for him, Ace, might not be what _you _want for him. He has a wife to care for and bills to pay off. Right now, school probably isn't his first priority."

Rory remembered what Dean told her and said, "That's what he said."

"Well, then that means I have to be right," Logan said, smirking. She smiled – the intended effect of the smirk – and Logan set on changing the subject.

"So, tell me, do you have any Kirk stories from when you were home? Please tell me you have some Kirk stories."

Rory grinned. "Well, as a matter of fact…"

* * *

Later that day Rory sat on her bed reading, a pillow wedged behind her to cushion her back. Paris was working on a research project and spent most of her days in the library – meaning Rory was able to enjoy the rare luxury of an empty bedroom. She heard a knock at the door and she stood, walking out into the common area to answer the door. She answered it, surprised to see Dean on the other side with a large bookcase beside him.

"Dean, what you doing here?"

"Your mom sent me with this bookcase," he said, avoiding eye contact. Their last conversation was as clear in his mind as in Rory's. "It didn't fit in the inn, so your mom thought it might fit here."

"Uh, sure, come in."

Dean picked up the bookcase and staggered inside, cheeks flushed from the exertion. They were on the second floor and she asked, "Did you carry that up all the stairs?"

"Yeah," he said setting it down. "I didn't really have a choice. Where do you want it?"

He was looking at her now, but his face was hard and expressionless. Their last exchange had been heated, and she hated to think that it impacted their relationship indefinitely. Thinking of what her and Logan had talked about earlier, she took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry."

"Rory-"

"It's your life and you know what's best. I shouldn't have judged, and I think it's great that you're providing for your family. I-"

"Rory," Dean interrupted again, smiling a bit. "It's fine. I'm sorry, too. I think both of us got a little worked up and said things we didn't mean."

Rory paused for a moment and then asked, "Are we okay?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "We're okay."

She pointed to an open space in between the two bedrooms and said, "The bookcase can go there."

He moved it over and when he was finished she asked, "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

He shook his head. " No. I figured I'd get something back in Stars Hollow. My shift at Doose's doesn't start until 5 o'clock."

"Eat here," she said immediately. "You drove all the way out here, anyway. We can go to The Pub. They have the best mini sliders. You'll be raving about them for weeks."

"Okay," he said, smiling. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

Usually it's a good thing when Sookie randomly shows up at the Gilmore house. She typically comes armed with cookies, cakes, or some delicious other treat that Lorelai couldn't make if she tried. When Sookie showed up with a full picnic basket, Lorelai had high hopes. Anything could be in that picnic basket. Her favorite peanut butter chip cookies. Little individual pies. Sookie brought those sometime last year and it was Lorelai's favorite surprise treat by far.

But it turned out to be filled with baby food.

"Why did you bring me a picnic basket of baby food?" Lorelai asked, following Sookie into the kitchen.

"Because, I want you to try them all," Sookie said happily, plopping the basket down on the kitchen table. Lorelai frowned and said, "I don't understand what's happening."

"If you like it, Martha will like it," Sookie answered sensibly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It took Lorelai a moment to catch on, and then she asked, "Hold on, are you saying I have the pallet of a six month old?"

Not missing a beat, Sookie replied, "Yes."

Lorelai went to argue, but then saw that Sookie sort of had a point. Instead of arguing she pointed out, "Just because I like it doesn't mean that Martha will. For instance, I don't like peas. Martha could love peas. She could write love poems about them in her spare time."

"She's six months old," Sookie said. "I don't think she's writing love poems about anything."

"I'm just saying-"

"I need her to eat my food," Sookie interjected. "I am a cook, Lorelai. Food is what I do. And my own daughter not liking my food? You have no idea what this is doing to me, Lorelai. I _need _her to like my food, and I'm all out of ideas. So, please, _please_, just try these and tell me what you think."

Lorelai caved, sitting down at the table. "Fine, hand me the first one."

Sookie grinned happily, reaching in and pulling out a light green one. Lorelai wrinkled her nose and said, "Are those peas? Because I'm not a big fan of peas, remember?"

"You said you'd try them," Sookie reminded her, twisting off the cap.

"Ugh, fine. Hand it over."

Sookie handed her the jar and then went over to the drawer to get her a spoon. Lorelai put a very small bit on the edge of the spoon and gave it an experimental lick.

"Nope. Not this one. Definitely not this one."

"Why not?" Sookie asked, face falling.

"Because it's _peas_," Lorelai spelled out. "Give me one I actually have a chance of liking."

"Okay, okay," Sookie said, rifling through the jars. There must have been about fifteen in there, and after a moment she pulled out a nice sherbert colored jar.

"Now, that looks more like it," Lorelai said.

She dipped her spoon in the jar and tested the puree. It wasn't great, but wasn't bad either. Handing it back she said, "Martha will eat it."

Sookie nearly jumped with excitement, choosing the next one. It was a dark red, and Lorelai was more than a little suspicious until she tried it.

"Oh my God, what is in this?" Lorelai said, taking another spoonful.

"You're never going to believe it," Sookie said, bouncing on her feet in excitement. "It's carrots, beets, apples and just a squeeze of lemon. It's chock full of nutrients!"

"Okay, just hearing those ingredients I'd think this would be gross, but this is amazing. I would eat this. In fact, I am eating this. You have more at home, right?"

"Yes, I do," Sookie said with a wide grin. "But, we have to keep on going."

She grabbed the jar from Lorelai's hand and placed it on the counter.

"Hey, I was eating that!" Lorelai said, craning her neck to see the jar on the counter.

"And now you are eating this," Sookie said, placing a pale yellow jar in front of Lorelai. She watched her friend dip her spoon in it and murmured, "This was the best idea."

* * *

Rory and Dean walked back to her dorm room, laughing at some random story she'd been telling him on the way back to the dorm. They stopped outside the door and Dean said, "Thanks for lunch. That was nice."

"Yeah," Rory said, nodding. "It was."

"I miss this," Dean said. "You and me doing things together. It's…"

"Nice?" Rory offered.

He laughed, nodding. "Yeah, nice. It's really nice."

His gaze darted down to her mouth and she felt her stomach twist as he stepped closer, his movements hesitant but sure at the same time. He came even closer and she looked up at him, her senses overwhelmed by the familiar sent on her cologne. She always liked the way he smelled.

He leaned in and she let the kiss happen. His mouth was so familiar against hers, and she almost kissed him back, but then she thought of Lindsay, and the gold band on his left hand, and she pulled back abruptly, her heart slamming against her chest.

"Rory-"

"You need to go," she stammered, reaching behind her for the doorknob. She turned it, relieved to find the door unlocked.

"Rory, wait."

"No, this didn't happen," she said quickly, opening the door and stepping back. "It didn't happen. It shouldn't have happened."

"We should talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said forcefully. "You're married, Dean. You are married, and there is nothing else for us to talk about. Goodbye."

She closed the door, turning the lock so he couldn't follow her. She began to pace, realizing just how royally she had messed things up. He was a married man. Dean was a married man, and she let him kiss her. She could have turned away. She could feel the ways that things were changing between them in that moment, but she didn't do anything to stop it.

"Oh my God," she murmured, eyes filling with tears. "What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

Logan sat in front of the television, working his way up to the next level in his video game. Honor always made fun of him for playing video games, but he didn't care. They were fun, and besides he was a guy. Playing video games was practically written into his DNA. There was a knock on his door and his attention was diverted just enough for his character to be killed.

"Shit," he said. As he walked over to the door he murmured, "I was so close to reaching that next fucking level."

He opened the door and Rory was there, her eyes red and watery.

"Are you alone?" she asked, wiping at her nose.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping aside so that she could walk in.

"I messed up," she said, sitting down on the couch. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "I really messed up this time."

"What happened?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"Dean dropped a bookshelf off for me," she explained slowly. "We both apologized about before, and I offered to take him to The Pub for lunch."

"Okay," Logan said warily, having a feeling where this was going.

"Lunch was fine. It felt like old times. And then we got back to my dorm and…"

She trailed off, shaking her head. Logan felt something tighten inside him and he carefully asked, "Did he do something to you?"

"No," she said immediately, eyes wide. "He wouldn't do that. Ever."

"Okay, I'm sorry," he relented. "It's just, the way you were talking…"

"We were outside my dorm room and he told me how he missed us doing things together," Rory continued. "And then he kissed me. I _let _him kiss me."

"He kissed you," Logan repeated. "That's it?"

"That's it?" Rory shot back, voice thick. "Logan, I kissed a married man. Well, he kissed me actually, but it's all the same. I'm so going to hell for this."

"No, you're not," Logan said. "You made a mistake. It's okay."

"I should have stopped it," she said, shaking her head. "I knew it was coming. I could have done something."

"It was just a kiss, Ace," Logan told her. "Unless it's more."

"It's not," she said, shaking her head. "It's definitely not."

"Okay, then, you just acknowledge that it happened and move on. To be honest, he's the one who should be feeling like shit now, not you."

"Maybe I led him on," Rory said, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward. "I invited him to lunch. Maybe that gave him the wrong idea."

"Lunch does not give people the wrong idea. You did nothing wrong, Ace. Sometimes shitty things happen. There's nothing you can do."

Rory nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry I came here and laid all of this on you. I just…I didn't know where else to go."

Logan smiled a bit and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a light squeeze. Although his embrace was not familiar, she leaned into it comfortably. His body was warm, and she didn't realize until then how cold she'd been. "You can come to me with anything, Rory. I'll be here for you. Always."

* * *

Rory stayed at Logan's for dinner and they watched a movie before she headed back to her dorm around ten o'clock. Paris was back from the library and was sitting on her bed, hand deep in a bag of chips. She glanced up when Rory walked in and said, "Where have you been at?"

"I was at Logan's," Rory said. Paris gave her some raised eyebrows and Rory said, "Let me at least get my boots off before I explain."

After she got her boots off and settled down on the bed Rory told her everything about Dean, the kiss, and how she went to Logan. She told Paris how Logan calmed her down and about dinner.

"You really told Logan about all that Dean stuff?" Paris asked, snorting.

"Yeah, why?" Rory asked, reaching over to the nightstand and picking up a tub of lotion. She unscrewed the top and dragged her finger through the moisturizer before applying it to her elbows.

"Don't you know he's in love with you?" Paris asked.

Rory was reaching for another bit of lotion and nearly knocked over the tub.

"What?"

"Everyone knows it except for you two," Paris said, shaking her head. "I hear some of his friends have started placing bets on when he will actually ask you out. I put money on two months from now. He seems like a tortoise to me."

"He doesn't like me that way," Rory said, although the moment she said it she knew it wasn't true. She thought of New Years Eve and how he always seemed to be there when she needed someone. "He said he doesn't date. He's not good at it."

"Which means it will be hilarious when you two actually get together."

"But, he doesn't…" Rory trailed off. "I don't…"

"Why don't you sleep on it," Paris said with a smirk. "Maybe in the morning you'll be less oblivious."

**A/N: Quick note - Dean was only used here as a plot device. I don't plan on using him further or making some warped Rory/Dean pairing before Rory/Logan. I only used him for that ending scene where Paris reveals Logan's feelings. Kind of like Marty does in the actual show. So...please don't flame me :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you for your feedback on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this new one!**

Chapter Seven

Standing in the coffee kart with Logan, him prattling on about something ridiculous Finn did earlier that day, Paris' words from the night before were very much on Rory's mind.

_"Don't you know he's in love with you?"_

Rory watched him talk, wondering if there was some shift in his behavior that should have clued her into his change in feelings. She remembered back at Chilton, Madeline and Louise would always talk about the moment they knew whatever boytoy they were playing with at the time fell in love with them.

"It's so obvious," Madeline would sigh, examining her nail beds. "No one calls that much if he isn't in love."

"Bummer," Louise would say. "He was pretty hot."

"I know. I guess now we have to break up."

Logan said something and Rory nodded, murmuring, "Wow."

Logan laughed, shifting his messenger bag higher up on his shoulder as he asked, 'What's going on with you?"

Rory glanced over at him, cheeks reddening as she realized she must have inadvertently said something wrong.

"What? I don't…"

"I asked you if Paris has done anything ridiculous as of late, and you responded with…wow."

Rory inwardly kicked herself, reminding herself that she needed to actually pay attention to conversations, especially now with all the things that were potentially happening. Well, one thing happening, that is Logan potentially being in love with her.

She really didn't need more than that one thing happening.

Rory swallowed hard and said, "Oh, sorry. I…uh…just didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I have a paper due next week and it's killing me."

It was a pretty good lie and Logan bought it.

"Don't burn yourself out, Ace," he said. "Otherwise, you're going to space out during some of my best material."

She smirked and they walked over to their coffee kart. The line was short today, and it only took a few minutes for them to order their coffees. They stood beside the kart, and Rory's thoughts drifted back to what Paris had said. She thought about Dean, and how she had run to Logan's after everything that happened. Gingerly she asked, "Hey, you didn't mind that I shared all that Dean stuff with you, right?"

He looked at her in surprise and returned, "No, of course not."

"Because, I can talk to other people about that stuff," she said. "I know that you're a guy and you probably don't want to hear about all that girl stuff."

"Well, I'm glad you know I'm a guy," he began slowly, "but I don't care if you share _girl_ stuff with me. I'm you friend. If you need to vent, that's what I'm there for."

He said it all so matter of fact, and it made her feel better. He didn't mind. They were friends, like he said, and he didn't mind. Maybe Paris was wrong. Surely if he was secretly in love with her he wouldn't want to hear all about her ex-boyfriend. That would be crazy. Their coffees were ready a few seconds later and they headed off into campus, Rory feeling infinitely better about the situation.

* * *

After class Rory returned to her dorm room, walking past Paris who was sprawled out on the couch, watching some documentary on the History channel. Rory was going to ask why she wasn't in the lab, but then remembered something Paris had said a few days prior about her and the professor being at odds. Leave it to Paris Gellar to actually be at odds with a professor thirty years her senior.

Rory set her things down in the bedroom and then walked out, happily telling Paris, "So, I wanted to tell you that you were wrong completely wrong about the Logan stuff."

"No, I'm not," Paris retorted from the couch. "But go on."

"I asked him about the Dean stuff and whether or not it bothered him. He said it was completely fine."

Paris stared at Rory, expecting more. When Rory remained silent Paris said, "He said it was completely fine? That's all?"

"Well-"

"What did you expect him to say? Of course he's going to say it's fine. Dean is old news – he's no threat to him anymore."

"You're wrong, Paris. He's fine with it because we are _friends_."

sighed sighs, slipping her arm behind her head and shifting on the couch. "Fine, whatever you and your delusional self says."

Rory's phone buzzed in her pocket and she grinned when she saw Lane's name flashing on her screen. She slipped into the bedroom and clicked into the call.

"Hi Lane."

Without any lead up, Lane loudly said, "I have the best news, Rory! Like, the absolute, I-think-I'm-going-to-pass-out-from-excitement good news!"

"Tell me!" Rory said happily, sitting down on her bed.

"Well, the band had its gig last weekend. It went so well, Rory. Everyone was loving the music, and Brian only vomited twice, which is actually a low number for him. The best part, though, is that someone from the Bowery Ballroom saw us and wants us to play there next weekend!"

Rory assumed the Bowery Ballroom was some sort of rock venue and said, "Lane, that's awesome."

"Of course, this means that I'm going to have to think up another excuse for my mom, but this could be really great for us, Rory. I mean, the Bowery Ballroom! That is almost, _almost_ the big time!"

"I'm so happy for you guys. You're going to kill it."

"Thanks," Lane said, her smile evident through her voice. "I was actually calling to invite you to the show. It's in New York, but that's only a short train ride from Yale. And the boys are getting a cheap hotel room, and I'm sure they'd let you crash if you didn't want to head back that night."

"I'll be there," Rory said, grinning. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."

"This is so great!" Lane exclaimed. "You can totally bring people, too. It should be a good night. Anyway, I have to go. I'll see you this weekend!"

Rory hung up and immediately thought of Logan. This would be the perfect way to cement their friendship. Going to see a friend's rock band play was a pretty neutral activity, and besides, he'd been vocal about wanting to hear Hep Alien play since she'd mentioned the band to him a few months back.

She quickly dialed his number and when he answered asked, "Hey, what are you doing this weekend?"

* * *

Logan sat in his living room, playing Mario Kart on his play station against Finn, who couldn't seem to go ten seconds without ramming his player into a wall.

"Dude, steer away," Colin said from the other chair. "It's not that hard."

"The screen keeps moving!" Finn said, proceeding to ram the car into another wall. It wasn't a fatal hit though, and the car simply bounced back onto the track.

Logan laughed and said, "I think it's less the screen than the half a bottle of Jack you've consumed."

"That's ridiculous, mate," Finn returned.

"Come on, Logan, you know his baseline is at least ¾ of a bottle."

"My bad," Logan retorted with a grin. "How could I have ever forgotten?"

Logan's phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, groaning when he saw Honor's number flashing on the screen. She'd been having a particularly high number of fights with Josh lately, and as her best friend was out of the country on an impromptu trip to Belize, Logan was the unlucky person who got all of Honor's panicked phone calls.

"Dude, pay attention," Colin said when Logan's car crashed into the wall. "Finn's driving better than you now."

"I have to take this," Logan said, pausing the game and standing up. The last time he ignored Honor's phone calls she retaliated by getting his platinum card put on hold. She was not someone to be trifled with.

He clicked into the call and said hello to his sister as he handed his controller to Colin who happily took his place in the game.

"What did Josh do now?"

"Nothing," Honor chirped happily. "He's so shell-shocked from our last big fight that he hardly says a word now. It works so much better for us that way."

Logan laughed. "Whatever you say, Honor. So, what's up?"

"I'm calling to make sure you pencil some brother-sister-time into your Saturday night."

"You're coming to in New Haven?" he asked.

"I have some business a few minutes from Yale," she said. "I thought I'd stop by and check in on my little brother."

"Well, your little brother actually already has plans."

"A frat party does not count as plans," she returned lightly. "Come on, I feel like I barely ever see you anymore."

"No, I'm serious," he said. "I have plans with Rory."

There was a pause and then Honor gasped, "Wait, it's finally happened?"

"What-"

"Oh, I'm so happy!" Honor shrieked, her voice so piercing that Logan had to actually move the phone away from his ear. "So, how did it happen? Tell me everything!"

"Nothing's happened," he said. "We're going to see her friend's band play in New York."

Logan could practically hear Honor roll her eyes as she said, "Logan, you can't honestly be this dense. This is a _date_."

"What? No, it's not."

"Are you two going into the city to see a band?" Honor asked.

"Yeah."

"And is it only you two going?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You can tell yourself whatever you want, little brother, but that is a date."

Logan felt a rush of conflicted feelings. Most of him thought Honor was full of shit, but when he thought about it more it did make a bit of sense. He shook his head and said, "Honor, I gotta go."

They said their goodbyes and he walked back out into the living room where Finn and Colin were vocally mocking each other's MarioKart abilities. Casually, he asked, "Hey guys, that thing Rory and I are doing Saturday, is that a date?"

"Sure is, mate," Finn said, eyes not leaving the screen.

"We weren't going to say anything," Colin added. "But, yeah, it's definitely a date."

Logan leaned against the doorframe and went, "Huh."

* * *

Saturday evening came quickly, and Logan found himself increasingly preoccupied with whether or not this night had somehow turned into a date. He was supposed to meet Rory at her apartment at five o'clock, and he got there a few minutes early. He knocked on the door and Paris opened, giving him a chesire grin as she said, "Hey there, Huntzberger."

"Hi, um, is Rory in there?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"She's getting ready," Paris said, stepping aside to let him in. "So, you two are going to New York, huh?"

"Yep," he said, sitting down on the couch.

"Just the two of you?" Paris asked, although her tone suggested she knew the answer.

"Uh, yeah, I think so."

"Sounds like a fun little Saturday date night," Paris said innocently. She paused for a moment and then added, "A platonic date night, of course. Because you and Rory are only friends, right?"

As he nodded Rory walked out of her bedroom, wearing a shorter black skirt with tights and boots, paired with a dark blue sweater. He swallowed hard, willing his eyes not to travel down her long expanse of legs.

"Hey," she said, smiling wide. "I thought I heard you out here."

"We were just having a great chat," Paris filled in. "Weren't we, Logan?"

"Yeah," Logan returned stiffly. "The greatest."

"And that's our cue to leave," Rory said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he said, nodding quickly. "As ready as ever."

Rory grabbed her coat and purse and they headed out, Paris closing the door behind them as she trilled, "Have a good time, you two!"

"I'm sorry for whatever she said," Rory said, walking down the stairs with him.

"She didn't say anything."

"Well, then you can save that apology for the future. Because I'm sure she'll say something offensive eventually."

He laughed, and they made their way through campus to the train station. He kept glancing sideways at her, noticing the way her hair blew around her face and her cheeks flushed from the cold. He noticed she was wearing a bit more makeup than usual, her eyes lined and her lips shimmering with some sort of gloss.

"So, what time is Hep Alien playing?"

"8:00," Rory said. "Their set is for an hour, and then I figured we'd hang out with them a bit afterwards. There's an 11:00 train back to New Haven."

"You have this whole night planned out," he said, smiling a bit.

"I'm a planner," she retorted. "If we end up staying later for some reason Lane said we could stay overnight with the band."

"That'd make all the groupies jealous."

"Technically, I think _we're _the groupies," she said, grinning over at him.

"Weird, I've never been a groupie before," Logan mused. "I don't know if I'm right for the part."

Rory laughed and went to say something when she slipped on a patch of ice. She reached out and grabbed Logan's arm to steady herself.

"That was close," Rory said breathlessly, straightening up. "Thanks for lending me your arm."

"Anytime."

They continued on to the train station, his arm tingling from where she had grabbed him.

* * *

The Bowery Ballroom was exactly what Rory thought a rock club should look like. It was dark and dank with old band posters plastered on the walls. It smelled like old stale beer, and when Rory walked her shoes stuck a bit to the floor. The lounge was already packed with people, and as they walked through the crowd to find a seat, Rory heard a group of people talking about Hep Alien.

"Did you hear that?" Rory said happily as her and Logan sat at a booth. "People were talking about Hep Alien!"

"Maybe there are other groupies," he said with a grin. "We might have some competition, Ace."

She laughed. "You forget that I have an in. No one else can say the band rehearses in their garage."

"That's very true," Logan conceded. He spotted someone walking toward them and said, "They also can't say that the band's drummer visits them before the set."

"Huh?"

"Rory!" Lane said loudly, appearing at the side of the booth. Rory did a sort of squeal and scurried out of the booth to give her friend a hug.

"I'm so glad you guys were able to make it," Lane enthused. "Can you believe how packed this place is?"

"You said it yourself, Lane," Rory reminded her. "This is the almost, almost big time."

"I know!" Lane said, nearly shaking with excitement. "I just can't believe it. This is really happening."

"How are the guys doing?"

"Brian's already had one asthma attack," Lane prattled off. "Those have seemed to replaced the vomiting. But, he just takes a hit off his inhaler and he's good as new! Zach and Gil are fine. They're actually having a riff-off backstage."

"Cool," Rory said, having no idea what a riff-off was.

"I know, this all so rock and roll!" Lane said, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe her good luck. "Anyway, I should head back. The opening act should be starting soon!"

She waved goodbye and as she walked off Rory yelled, "Good luck!"

"I'm going to get us drinks," Logan said, edging his way out of the booth. "What do you want?"

"I'll just have whatever you're having," she said easily.

"Alright, I'll be right back."

He headed toward the bar and Rory glanced around the lounge, thinking how amazing it was that she was actually there and Lane's band was playing. They both had come so far. Rory at Yale and Lane playing at big-shot New York lounges. If only their high school selves could see them now.

Logan came back with two beers and Rory asked, 'How did you get these?"

He winked and said, "I have my ways."

"We're not going to get arrested or anything for these, right?" she asked warily. He laughed and said, "No, we'll be fine."

"Because…" she leaned in, glancing around and then said, "…we're underage."

"I can get you something else," he said.

"No," she said, sitting back. "It's fine. As long as you think it's fine. And you think it's fine, so-"

"It's fine?" he finished with a grin. "Seriously, Ace, I can get you something else. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"No, I want this," she said definitively, raising the stein of beer to her lips and taking another sip. Logan laughed at her expression as she put the stein back on the table and said, "Alright, I am getting you a Coke."

"No, Logan-"

"This is for my own sake, Ace. I don't think I can take an hour of you making that face. I'll be right back."

When he made his way back to the bar for the second time, the first set began. It was a group of guys who looked like they hadn't seen a good shower in weeks. Rory thought they were tuning their instruments, but as they began to sing she was horrified to see that this was actually a song.

Logan returned with her Coke and said, "Is it just me, or do these guys suck?"

"They really suck," she agreed, happily taking the Coke from him.

"Well, that bodes well for Lane's band." He considered that for a moment and said, "Unless they suck, too."

"They don't," Rory assured him. "Sound really travels from our garage. They're good."

He took a long sip of his beer and she asked, "How do you drink that stuff?"

"Years of practice," he returned.

"You're only eighteen. How can you have years of practice?"

"Two words: boarding school."

Rory's eyes widened. "You went to boarding school?"

"Let's just say I had professional differences with the administration at most of the prep schools in Connecticut."

"Professional differences?" she repeated.

"Eventually, that expanded to _all _prep schools in Connecticut, so my parents chose a different route for me."

"But…you're so normal," Rory said slowly. Usually when she thought of kids in boarding school they were deviants who were two steps away from juvie.

He shrugged. "Most of us there were."

"You're life was way more exciting than mine pre-Yale," she said, leaning back in her seat.

"That I can't believe," he said. "You and Paris went to the same school, right? I'm sure there were some crazy times there."

She grinned, unable to argue that as she took a sip off her Coke. They chatted casually for the remainder of the first set, trying fruitlessly to block out the screeching coming from the stage. Both were relieved when Hep Alien was up. It was a stark difference from the first set. The music was good – really good – and the energy in the lounge changed. A group formed in front of the stage, people dancing.

"You want to get closer?" Logan asked.

She nodded and they pushed through the crowd toward the stage. It was almost deafening that close, but Rory couldn't care less. Everyone was having such a wonderful time, and Lane was positively beaming onstage.

"They're really good!" Logan yelled, but she couldn't hear him.

"What?"

"They're-"

Someone accidentally rammed into Logan and he careened into Rory, his hands landing on her waist. Her palms rested on his chest and she tilted her face up, eyes locked with his. The crowd roared around them, and she could feel her heart slamming against her chest. Just as he began to lower his face to hers the song ended and they pulled apart.

They clapped for Hep Alien stiffly, actively avoiding each other's gaze.

* * *

After the set the band mates came out to visit with Rory and Logan. Zach only lasted for about ten minutes before he went off with a group of scantily clad girls wearing too much eye makeup. Brian, in the excitement from the show, used his inhaler about ever five minutes.

"It was the most amazing feeling!" Lane said, grinning wide. "Being up there and _all _the people out here! It was just…amazing!"

"You guys were really great," Rory said.

Logan was talking with Gil and Brian, and she watched them make their way toward the bar. Alone at the table, Lane leaned in and said, "So, I saw you and Logan up by the stage."

"Oh, yeah…" Rory said, cheeks flushing.

"Are you guys together or something?"

Rory shook her head. "No, we're just friends."

"Okay," Lane said. "Anyway, how awful was that first group?"

Rory let out a breath, relieved that Lane wasn't pushing the issue. "So awful."

* * *

They left the lounge just in time to make the 11:00 train back to New Haven. Things went back to normal between them, both seemingly set on forgetting what nearly happened before. The train ride went by quickly, and before she knew it they were walking back to her dorm room. Logan suddenly became quiet and she glanced over at him, wondering what was going through his mind.

"I have to ask you something, Ace."

"Okay," she said slowly.

He hesitated and then asked, "This wasn't a date, was it?" Before she could say anything he added, "I mentioned tonight to Honor, and she started saying all this stuff, and –"

"It's not a date," she said quickly. "I mean, I don't think it's a date. Do you?"

"No," he said just as quickly. "I don't think it was a date. We're friends."

"Yeah."

"Friends do stuff like this together," he said.

"All the time."

Part of him realized that if they were strictly friends they wouldn't be rationalizing the night, but he pushed that realization to the side.

"That would have been a pretty intense first date, anyway," he added. "Can you imagine?"

"Yeah," she said, walking up to her building. "Way too intense. All the, uh, time alone. The need for constant conversation."

"Right, it worked because we're friends. But, otherwise-"

"Complete disaster," she finished, stopping at the front door to the building. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. And thanks for inviting me to this thing. I had a great time."

She smiled a bit and said, "Goodnight, Logan."

"Night, Ace."

She walked inside and headed up the stairs, her chest feeling heavy. She pulled her keys from her purse and opened the door, shutting it behind her. The living room was empty, and when she stepped into her bedroom she saw that Paris was asleep in bed. She took off her coat and tossed it on her desk chair. Outside she heard a knock, and she walked back out into the living room to answer the door. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Logan standing there. She went to ask what he was doing at her apartment when he stepped forward and kissed her.

She stood completely still, not quite knowing what was happening and how she should react. But when he pulled away, eyes searching hers, she knew exactly what to do. Without a second thought she reached up and tugged his mouth to hers again, acting on the feelings that she'd had for longer than she was ever willing to admit. His arms wound around her waist and she pressed herself as close to him as she could. When air was necessary he pulled away, his eyes bright and breath labored. Rory thought he'd never looked better.

"Tonight was a date," he said.

She grinned, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck with her fingers. "Okay. Tonight was a date."

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! if you are still reading, please leave feedback!**


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